Honey and Vinegar
by AutumnMobile12
Summary: Seras doesn't know what to make of Lisa. Hellsing AU. Netflix Castlevania. (Complete)
1. Stranger

**Important Author's Note**: Medieval AU for Hellsing to pull this crossover off. As for Seras' personality, I went with the demeanor she takes on post-Zorin fight. Also forget Hellsing's Alucard; he's been overwritten by Netflix Castlevania's Dracula. I own neither of these series.

-0-0-0-

Chapter One: Stranger

It was nearly daybreak by the time Seras arrived at Castle Dracula, landing neatly in the forecourt and looking up to survey the familiar motley collection of towers and bastions. An army of gears revolved around their axles and pistons pumped and hissed with every movement. Here and there, steam spilled from one turret or other and dispersed among the fading stars. It was a fortress as hideous as it was breathtaking, and a sight she could not help but admire every time she passed its way.

But tonight Seras broke from her reverie early and swept up the stairs to the great stone portal, her cloak and dress trailing behind. Her inhuman strength allowed her easy access into the gloomy keep and, once inside, she drew back her crimson cowl lined with snow-clotted, sable fur and wrinkled her nose. There was something different about the castle, she noticed with a frown. It seemed brighter. Clearer even. As if the warmth of a summer breeze had somehow traversed the threshold and breathed life back into this old ruin, and Seras could scarcely explain it.

As she brushed snow from the hem of her dress, she turned her head to the unmistakable clink of glass and the steady hum of a gas burner. Figuring her master was in the laboratory, she set off in that direction, her footfalls echoing softly in the dim hall. Between the grand double staircases she went and down the lit corridor, and still the sensation of cleanliness and light pervaded her path. Now that she thought about it, the spiders were gone. She could not see evidence of their webs on the sconces nor the suits of armor lined along the wall. The armor itself seemed to have been cleaned recently, too, and she paused to slide her finger across a pauldron, only to draw it away free of dust.

Had her master been cleaning his fortress?

She made a thoughtful sound as she continued onward to the open door of the laboratory where the light of the bright lamps filtered across the carpet. Seras opened her mouth to call out in greeting, but when she reached the doorway, she froze and stared at the figure inside. That was not Dracula. It was a woman—a _human_ woman—tinkering with something at a desk. Seras was shocked speechless. What was a human doing in her master's castle, never mind working in his prized alchemy lab?

"Who are you?" she demanded, baring her fangs. The woman jumped and whipped around to face her, blonde hair held out of her face by a band of linen and goggles protecting her pale blue eyes. She held a Florence flask containing a clear fluid, but Seras took no notice. Had she been wearing the form of a she-wolf, her hackles would have been raised as she repeated, "Who the hell are you?"

"Dracula?" the woman called, backing into the worktable as she clutched the flask. "Dracula, there's a young lady here!"

"I heard," her master's voice drawled smoothly and Seras flinched as he appeared abruptly behind her, sweeping into the laboratory and removing her cloak in the process. "This is a surprise, my dear. Had I known you'd intended to visit, I'd have forewarned you of my guest."

Seras narrowed her eyes, but Dracula gently placed a hand on her shoulder and gestured to the interloper in the laboratory. "Seras," he said. "This woman is called Lisa. She is a new pupil of mine and has been my guest for some months now. Lisa," He took Seras' hand in his own and kissed her fingers. "This is my daughter, the Lady Seras Victoria Draculina."

"Oh!" Lisa, apparently, gasped in surprise. "I-I didn't realize you had family, or that vampires could…well, you know."

Dracula permitted an indulgent laugh, something that seemed to come naturally all of a sudden. Not contrived in the name of deception or annoyance, Seras noted, but a true and genuine laugh. "No, Lisa, our kind do not procreate in the human sense of the word. When I call Seras my daughter, I mean she is my fledgling. A former human woman turned vampire in her dying moments, and the blood bond we share makes her my child by right."

Seras bristled at such a brazen disclosure of her history and secrets to a mortal woman, but she held her peace as 'Lisa' set aside the flask and removed her goggles before approaching to hold out her hand. "Well, then, I am very pleased to meet you, Lady Seras. I hope I will be able to call you my friend during my stay here."

Seras' glare did not abate until Dracula's grip on her shoulder tightened, and she automatically lifted her hand to grasp the human's. "Pleasure," she said stiffly. _What the hell is going on? _What in the world was Master thinking to allow a human in the castle? Had he taken leave of his senses? Or was he planning to eat her? Yes, perhaps that was it. Otherwise, what other reason could he have? And yet why had she found the human at work in the alchemy lab? All these thoughts raced through her mind at a speed even she couldn't fathom, and she dared not look to Dracula for answers. His iron grip on her shoulder said enough.

Relief swept through her as Lisa let go of her hand, and she drew it back to her as though she'd been burned. "I-I will show myself to my chambers then. That is, _if_ they are still mine, sir."

"Of course, my dear," Dracula said as he released her and gestured to the door. "You know I wouldn't evict you from your own home. Go on. It will be dawn soon, and if you've come all the way from Poenari this night, I imagine you must be tired."

Without another look at Lisa, Seras made her escape though the doors and fled down the hall once she was out of sight, her thoughts in disarray.

-0-0-0-

"You will have to forgive her coldness," Dracula said as soon as Lady Seras had disappeared. "I am afraid Seras has been shown little compassion from the human race and therefore harbors no love for them."

Lisa looked to him in concern. "What happened?"

The vampire turned away to organize the books at the worktable, marking pages and closing them before placing the ancient tomes neatly on the shelves. "From what she has freely admitted, I know her parents were killed when a pair of thieves broke into her childhood home. With no one to take her in, she spent her childhood wandering the Wallachian countryside until she arrived at the village of Cașcaval where she spent the rest of her human days begging and taking on backbreaking work to survive."

"You found her in such a sorry state then?" Lisa asked as she turned off the gas burner and poured the flask of freshly distilled water into a sterile container.

"No. I had been hunting another of my kind who'd insulted me, a wretched Nosferatu posing as a priest in Cașcaval. By the time I found him, he'd slaughtered the entire village in his bloodlust, all except for Seras, whom he'd intended to use for…other purposes."

Lisa shuddered.

"Seras was dealt a mortal wound in the fraudulent priest's struggle, and rather than leave her to die, I offered her the choice to join me and become a creature of the night. Thus, she became my daughter."

Such a cruel fate for one so young. Lisa lowered her eyes to her desk and began to pack her notes into her satchel. "Do you…love Seras then?"

"As much as any man loves his daughter, I suppose." Dracula smiled fondly. "I ensure her safety, I've gifted her with fine clothes and a castle of her own with servants to queen over, and I indulge her whims, whatever they may be."

Lisa wasn't sure she wished to know what those whims were, but she hung the leather bag over her shoulder and smiled up at him. "I never took you for a doting father. Do you think it possible that I could win her over? I meant what I told her about hoping to be friends."

"I am sure you did. But for now, it's time to sleep. The sun will soon rise." Dracula offered her his arm and together they departed the lab, extinguishing out the lights on the way out. "Do try not to stay up too late reading that book you pilfered from the shelves, Lisa."

"You know I won't promise that."


	2. Caution

Author's Notes: Big thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed.

I own neither of these series.

-0-0-0-

Chapter 2: Caution

Seras awoke to the sound of wolves on the hunt, their howls echoing up to her window alongside the squeals of some unfortunate rabbit or hare. As she yawned and rose from her bed, she went to the glass door to balcony and looked out to see the pack in the twilight, all clustered around their finished prey. Eight of them she counted. The white alpha, an assortment of greys and blacks, a few pups, and the lowly omega that paced around his brothers and sisters for a chance at their quarry. She smiled and leaned over the palisade to watch the family at their breakfast. Had it not been first thing in the evening, she might've been tempted to take on her wolf form and join. They weren't unfamiliar to her, after all, and even the alpha showed deference to her whenever she appeared, loping toward them with her head and tail held high.

The wolves continued to snarl and circle below her for a quarter hour or so before melting away into the night, so she retreated back into her room and shut the door behind her. In the light of the newly risen moon, she shucked off her nightgown and replaced it with a linen underdress. Next, she threw on the silk kirtle she'd worn yesterday, although she found herself unable to lace up the back without her maid to help her. _Oh…_. Seras let out a long sigh and twisted her neck to look at her reflection, or rather the backside of her reflection, in the mirror. The laces were all tangled, not to mention reversed, and no matter where she put her hands, she couldn't…. _Damn it all._

It was as she stood here, frustrated beyond belief, that a knock came at the door and she turned her head, mortified. If her master had come to visit her so early— "Yes?"

"Lady Seras?"

She stiffened. The Lisa woman? What did she want?"

"Are you awake? May I come in?"

Seras hesitated, then decided there was no harm in letting her in and slowly lowered her arms to her sides. "Very well. Enter."

In the door swung and she was surprised to find Lisa standing on her doorstep with a bowl of steaming water in her hands and a towel draped over her arm. "I thought you might like help dressing yourself," the woman said with a smile. "Dracula doesn't keep servants, but I _was_ a provincial lady's maid for a time before I came here."

Seras flicked her red eyes down to the bowl with steaming water and the towel and speculated Lisa intended more service than simply lacing up the back of her kirtle. Annoyance flooded through her at the human's offer of assistance, but without a maid to help her, there wasn't much else she could do but accept. After all, she did not want to spend the evening with a loose kirtle and an ill-fitted houppelande. So she pulled up the chair to her mirror and washstand and took a seat. "Do as you like."

Lisa entered the room fully then, set the bowl down on the stand, and took up a wooden comb Seras had left from her previous visit. Without a word, she began to run the teeth through her fair hair, and it took all Seras' self-control not to flinch at the contact of a stranger's hands. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend it was just van Winkle going about their morning routine, but she refused to leave herself vulnerable in such a way. If Lisa was aware of her discomfort, which she hoped she wasn't, she gave no sign and combed her hair calmly and quietly.

"It's a beautiful evening."

Forget quietly then. Seras stared at the woman's reflection in the mirror, unblinking and hoping it would disconcert her. Yet Lisa gave no sign of unease and even smiled as she ran the comb's teeth through her hair again. She had gentle hands. Though Seras had short hair and it did not tangle too terribly, Lisa worked out what few snarls there were without any pain whatsoever. Nor with any particular speed. "Do pick up the pace. Tug my hair if you have to," Seras growled and snapped her fingers. "Else we'll never get anywhere."

"My apologies," Lisa said patiently and continued at a more brisk pace and finished the task within a few minutes. Then she withdrew a cake of soap that smelled of thyme and lovage from a pouch she carried and offered it to her.

"You seem to have adjusted well to a vampire's nocturnal hours," Seras remarked coldly as she took it and lathered her hands. "I trust it wasn't too much trouble."

As she began to scrub her face, Lisa answered sheepishly. "Oh, it didn't take long at all. The moment I first saw your father's library, I spent the whole night pouring over the manucripts and scrolls. And when morning came, I went to sleep without any trouble and slept through the whole day."

"Is that so," Seras rinsed her hands and face, then took the towel Lisa offered her and patted it over her pale skin. Then as the human was reaching for a bottle of rosewater, Seras turned to her and asked. "Why are you here, Lisa? Why come to the one place Wallachian men, women, and children fear most? Why not stay as a simple lady's maid?"

Lisa paused and looked at her, and Seras noticed for the first time her eyes were as blue as hers had been so many years ago. "That lady's lord husband thought he might enjoy me," she answered evenly. "And when I refused his advances, I was later accused of theft and dismissed from her service."

Seras fell quiet, an almost abashed feeling sweeping through her, and she turned away. She could understand the injustice of _that_ all too well. Lisa reached for the bottle again and poured some of the sweet-smelling liquid into the palm of her hand, which she then brushed through Seras' hair.

"Which dress were you hoping to wear tonight? I could find a matching ribbon for your hair."

-0-0-0-

"I do hope you'll forgive my neglecting you last night, my dear," Dracula said as he seated himself before the old hearth in his personal chamber. "Your arrival was most unexpected."

"My apologies, sir." Seras dipped her head in a nod. "The fault is mine. I gave no sign that I wished to visit you, after all."

"No doubt you were alarmed by the presence of Lisa."

"I was, sir."

He smiled. "But I trust there was no urgent matter in your own household that required my immediate intervention? Or perhaps there is something wrong with your mirror and you were unable to contact me?"

"My household is insufferable and it pleases me to take leave of them when their relentless squabbling tests the bounds of my patience," Seras scowled as she seated herself in the chair opposite him, arranging her dark blue skirts neatly around her. "Walter nags, Van Winkle is timid, Jan's a lech, Luke is a bootlicker, Alhambre irritates everyone, Zorin thinks of nothing but violence, and Schrödinger constantly speaking in riddles." Truthfully, it was only the werewolf who did not speak that did not raise her ire and she'd grown to enjoy the brute's silent company.

"I imagine you've left them all in a veritable uproar," Dracula chuckled quietly and propped his elbow on the arm of his chair to rest his chin against his knuckles. "What of Wallachia? Tell me."

"Not as quiet as I would like," she sighed. "I've been hearing troubling accounts of a new forge master making trouble in Moldova. Ottoman forces of the human variety have their eye on the southern border. A Styrian vampire lord has been killed by his own fledgling." Her eyes flashed with a sudden thought. "And I hear Godbrand has come down from the north again."

"He still hasn't forgiven you then? For that business in Oltenița?"

Seras sneered and looked to the fire. "If he's out for my blood, I'll just chase him to the border again. The _Berserker Draugr_ does not concern me. I nearly killed him once. I can do it again."

"He _underestimated_ you the first time, Seras," Dracula corrected. "He may not make the same mistake again."

"We'll see." And yet Seras turned away, forlorn. She hated fighting and senseless violence. A century had passed since she'd become a creature of the night, and she'd never really attained the same level of aloofness and cruelty that was so common of her adopted people. Humanity had rejected her long ago, and in the end, the vampire world had welcomed her not. Like a royal court, she found nothing in the night but intrigue and treachery and an endless game of power among her own kind. Given those options, solitude seemed to be the only solace for her. Only now, she lived in comfort instead of starving and half-wild in random villages across the countryside.

Without her sire, she couldn't imagine where she would be today.

She sighed. "May I speak freely, sir?"

"Of course, Seras. You are, after all, my most trusted General, and I delight in your frankness."

"The human troubles me," she said without preamble. "You bring this woman, Lisa, into your home, show her your secrets so that…what? What does she intend to do with all this knowledge? What do _you _intend to do with her, Master?"

"If you must know, Daughter, I hope to marry her."

The words pierced her like a knife and Seras felt her eyes widen. "What?"

But Dracula had gone silent again and she could sense his eyes watching her, gauging her reaction, and he was smiling even. Not his genuine smile she'd seen the other night but his cold, calculating leer that was so familiar to her. God, he was serious. Almost imperceptibly, Seras clenched the fabric of her dress in her hands and she turned to him, red eyes meeting his without flinching. What in the hell was this woman that she was so easily able to warm the heart of her cruel and forbidding father?

"Are you going to turn her?"

"No."

"Have you asked her?"

"To be my wife? Not yet."

"You would make a mortal woman your bride? As if she were some great lady or princess?"

Dracula's tone took on a touch of anger then. "Recall the diligence in her studies you briefly witnessed last night. She means to be a doctor, a scientist who means to revive the ancient medical arts long forgotten by humanity. A true healer, not a mere hedge witch or swindler divining fortunes and leaving fate up to God. Now tell me she is not a great lady."

Seras had nothing to say. It chafed her pride to hold a human in the same regard as her master, or any of their kind for that matter. Humans were mortal. Scared. Narrow in thought and ever fearful of a god whose love was promised to be unconditional. And yet God had abandoned her to wander alone for years, and when she'd become a young woman, the annoyed kicks and thrown rocks of her youth suddenly became unwanted advances from the men in whichever village she happened to find herself in. Their wives called her a harlot as if it were _her_ fault for the attention she received. How many nights had she slept in her crude shelters, afraid someone would come to force himself on her? How many men had she fought off, tooth and nail, a knife if she had one, or a large rock if she could find one? How many times had a furious wife or sweetheart slapped her or pinched her or hurled insults at her in the street in front of everyone?

Who was this Lisa to claim she was any better, or any different, from the rest of the rabble?

Her father sighed and braced his hands against the arms of his chair to stand. "You have slain many humans, Seras. For vengeance, for food, even for sport on the rare occasion, and you suffered many hardships at their hands during your human life," he said as he rested his hand against her fair, short hair. "You have grown into a fine creature of the night, and you know I have always been proud of you. And yet when I see your face, sometimes I still see that poor child atop the lonely hill in Cașcaval where she died under the full moon."

Seras swallowed a hard lump in her throat.

"If you cannot accept Lisa, then harm her not. Leave her in peace." As he returned his gaze to the fire, he waved his hand at her, a clear dismissal if she ever knew one.

Seras stood, made a quick bow, and hurried toward the door, eager to get away for the first time. Master had always been kind to her. In his own way, at least. She loved him as much as she'd loved her father, and losing Dracula would be tantamount to the same devastating grief she'd felt that terrible night in her home village.

What was Lisa?


	3. Boundaries

Chapter 3: Boundaries

Lisa took a deep breath and gave her all to concentrate on her work. Or as much as she could concentrate with the Lady Seras hovering unseen in the alchemy lab. She couldn't see her, but she could sense her eyes on her. Eyes that were cold and predatory and watched her every move from somewhere behind the shelves.

_She's different from Dracula_, Lisa thought as she read a passage from an ancient alchemy book and scribbled something down in her noteboook. Not that she'd expected anything but different in the female vampire. Despite the loss of their humanity, it made sense vampires possessed varied personalities, opinions, and thoughts just as their mortal counterparts did. These past few months she'd spent in the castle had proved its master to be…a calm and quiet lord. Like an old wolf had lay down to sleep, content to watch the world for a time. He'd shown himself to be proud of her accomplishments and her determination, always patient with her endless questions, and he'd never once mocked her ignorance any more than he taunted her failures. He'd even encouraged her after one of her experiments had gone disappointingly wrong and the wasted time and effort had discouraged her so. Lisa smiled fondly at the memory.

Last night and over breakfast, he'd shown himself to kind and even affectionate to his daughter, and Lisa wondered if the sweet-faced vampiress acted the same when the two were alone. If Dracula loved her as a daughter, did Seras love him as a father? She always addressed him as 'sir,' but was the formality present only because there was a stranger in their midst?

In contrast to her sire, Lisa imagined the Lady Seras as akin to a proud falcon. Ever watchful, ever alert, and predatory in nature. Despite her intentions, she couldn't help but feel leery of the girl's unblinking stare and her low, vulturine voice. As if she were sizing her up for a fight. Or a meal. From what she could gather, the girl was much younger than her master, and yet Lisa suspected she was much older than she looked. And she looked…perhaps a year or two younger than herself? Nineteen or twenty? Perhaps Seras didn't have the worldly experience Dracula did. Perhaps her caution stemmed from simply not knowing what to make of the strange human in her father's home.

_"__I am afraid Seras has been shown little compassion from the human race and therefore harbors no love for them."_

She sighed as she shut the heavy tome. Being on the wrong end of human fear was something they both had in common at least. "Why do you lurk in the shelving like that, Lady Seras? Why not come out and talk to me?"

"Because I have nothing in particular to say," the girl replied immediately, and Lisa heard a page turn. "Did you wish to speak with me?"

The young woman stood and brushed her hair from her face. "I would, actually."

"About?"

"You, I suppose," Lisa looked to where she thought Seras' voice was coming from. "I told you I used to be a lady's maid this morning. Would you like to share something of yourself?"

There was a soft _thump_ as the distant book closed. "Many of my kind like to devour virgin girls for their pure, unsullied blood," she said in a low, clinically dispassionate voice. "I prefer the blood of murderers and rapists. There's a bit more thrill in hunting them, too. Innocent maidens have a tendency to scream overmuch, and most would much rather wait for a rescue than fight back."

Lisa swallowed uncomfortably. "I-I see. Well, I suppose if you must kill to eat, then…"

"Better I kill the scum? Is that what you mean to say?" She felt Seras' smile like a cold shiver down her spine, and she turned as her voice echoed from another part of library. "I would've thought it's a human's duty to cherish all life, no matter how soiled it is. 'Love thy neighbor,' you know. Is that not the teaching of your God?"

"I am not one for theology, Lady Seras."

"Oh?" Seras appeared suddenly in front of her. "Then what do you believe in, Lisa?"

Lisa flinched but held her ground in front of the girl's staring, crimson eyes. "Science. Chemistry. Alchemy and physics. I believe in medicine that cures the sick and ways to heal the injured without placing one's faith entirely in God. That's why I'm here. To learn."

Seras narrowed her eyes. "Yes. Master did say something of the sort when we last spoke. Curious ambition for a human woman, I must admit." Then her lips twisted in a smile. "Perhaps you would like to examine me then?"

Lisa returned her gaze, although her heart throbbed painfully and all she wanted was to look away, but she cleared her throat, smiled, and gestured to the stool she'd so recently vacated. "All right. Have a seat, Seras."

The girl's eyes flashed at her challenge being so readily answered, but there was no way to back down without losing face. So she lowered herself into a seat and crossed her legs at the ankle. Lisa turned to open a drawer in her desk and removed her kit, which Seras craned her neck to see better.

"Sit up straight, please," Lisa said. "I'd like to check your eyes first."

Gently, she pulled at Seras' left eyelid and bade her look up, down, left, and then right, then did the same to the other eye. Clear sclerae, no sign of disease. Her red irises contracted and relaxed appropriately in response to the light she held close to her face. Her ears had some build-up of wax and could use some cleaning. Her temperature was approximately twenty-one degrees Celsius, as opposed to thirty-seven degrees Celsius as an ordinary woman's was, a fact that startled Lisa until she remembered she was examining a living corpse. Her skin was more pale than that of a human's as well. Most alarming were Seras' teeth. They were sharp but white and clean with no sign of decay, yellowing, or calcification. But where her father only possessed two sharp fangs on the upper row of his teeth, where the human canine teeth resided, Seras had nothing but fangs. Like a wolf or other carnivorous animal. Was this a trait of female vampires, Lisa wondered. Or was Seras an anomaly among her own kind? A rare subspecies? An alpha species?

Throughout all this, Seras kept painfully quiet, even when Lisa had her stick her tongue out so as to examine her throat. Normal coloration. No swelling. No sign of malnourishment or dehydration. No sign of injury or illness. From her best estimate, Seras seemed to be in perfect health.

"Is that all?" Seras asked as she was setting aside her kit again.

"Indeed." Lisa smiled at her. There wouldn't be much point in checking the girl's pulse, blood pressure, or breathing. "Thank you for sitting for me, Seras."

"Wouldn't you like a blood sample?" she asked dryly.

"Actually, I would," Lisa said enthusiastically, turning toward her. "If you're willing to part with some. I've studied my own and Lord Dracula's, but I'd be interested to have another vampire's to compare them to. I've been researching how humans have different blood types, you see."

This, she was gratified to see, seemed to rattle Seras for once, and the vampire was the one who retreated this time, her eyes narrow in disgust. "Ugh. I'd give you a _stool_ sample before that ever happened."

"I'll take it!" Lisa laughed, and Lady Seras launched herself out of her seat like a cat and took several steps back.

"What _is _wrong with you?" she demanded. "What does he…"

Here, the vampiress faltered, and sensing she'd crossed a line, Lisa put a hand out as Seras spun around and hurried toward the doors. "Wait! Seras!" She made it only a few steps before she paused and looked back at her, comically affronted but Lisa made sure not to laugh again. "I'm sorry. I was only teasing you."

A long silence stretched between them and Lisa clasped her hands together to pick at her fingernails in spite of herself. Seras remained unblinking, though her expression did seem to soften a little before she slowly turned away. "And I suppose speaking so callously of my prey preferences was, perhaps, unwarranted. I ask your pardon for that."

Lisa smiled. "Thank you."

Seras nodded in response and took a step forward.

"You know," Lisa said as an idea occurred to her. "I _am_ going to Lupo Village for some supplies tomorrow night. Would you like to come with me?"

"Lupo Village?" Seras turned to face her again, blinking owlishly.

"Yes." Lisa waved her hand in the vague direction of the village and, suddenly, felt silly for doing so.

"I know of it." The vampire's eyes followed her hand for a moment, then snapped back to her face. "Only it's such a…small place. And I know for a fact my master has a full spence of fresh provisions, so why—Oh! You need supplies for the laboratory?"

Lisa fidgeted a little. "I do have some experiments that require some chemical elements that I've either used up or didn't have to begin with."

"Why don't you just ask Dracula himself?" Seras said in annoyance. "He's fond of you. I'm sure he'd be happy to run wherever you asked him."

"Well…I…"

At her hesitation, Seras raised an eyebrow.

"It's just I haven't left the castle in some months," she admitted. "As much as I enjoy my work here, I would like to go outside for time. And Lupo Village isn't far. We could make a night trip of it. What say you?

-0-0-0-

Author's Notes: Not my most exciting chapter...

I own neither of these series.


	4. Wind

Chapter 4: Wind

When Lisa arrived outside the castle keep with her travel pack in hand the following twilight, she was almost surprised to see Seras and Dracula waiting for her. Her mentor, she knew, had intended to see her off, but she'd half expected his daughter to turn down her invitation to accompany her to Lupo. True, she had assisted the vampiress in dressing as she'd done the night before, but Seras had given no indication of wanting to leave the castle at all. In all honesty, Lisa had almost come to the conclusion she had wished to spend some time with her sire.

Yet father and daughter stood on the steps, side by side as they surveyed the landscape beyond the portal. Silent as hawks, they gave no sign of having heard her and simply watched, though what for she could not say. Seras wore the bright red cloak in which she'd arrived, the black fur now devoid of snow, and she carried what Lisa took to be a long sword wrapped in cloth on her back. She stood idly, hands clasped behind her back as she raised her head to look at the pale moon, then jerked to the right as she followed the flight pattern of what was probably a bat.

"I think it shall be another beautiful night, Seras," Dracula said finally.

"I agree, sir."

When the vampire king turned his head to see Lisa, he smiled and brushed a hand against his daughter's shoulder. "Best be on your way, then. The sun is nearly down, and humans don't keep their shops open long after dark. Even in the winter months."

"Yes, sir."

Lisa smiled as she approached them, shouldering her pack and adjusting her red shawl. "Are you ready, Lady Seras?"

The vampiress turned and looked at her.

"It's going to be a two hour walk to the village, so—"

"_Two hours?_ Is that as fast as your skinny, human limbs can take you?" Seras snorted and strode down the steps into the forecourt where she halted just before the first of the stakes. "And you expect a creature of the night to travel at such a sluggish pace. I think not, Lisa."

Lisa opened her mouth to speak, but the retort died on her lips as the vampire before her bowed low at the waist and was then gone. Not disappeared, no. Seras simply touched the ground at her feet and then…shifted. Lisa had heard vampires could transform from the stories, but after months of living in Castle Dracula and never once seeing the lord of it become anything other than his human appearance, she assumed it was just superstitious nonsense.

_"__Get on my back,"_ the wolf that was Seras growled. _"I'll have you there in no time."_

Was she serious? Lisa paled at the sight before her and paled further at her words. Seras' wolf form was massive, comparable more to that of a large draft horse than the predatory canines that roamed the area. Granted, Lisa had never really seen a wolf up close before, but…. "L-Lady Seras, I-I've never ridden a horse or anything before."

_"__Do I look like a horse to you?"_ Seras snarled. _"Get on. Or I will leave you behind."_

Dracula chuckled low in his throat and Lisa flinched when he placed a careful hand on her back, just between her shoulders. "I suppose you must go now. Else Seras' impatience will be the end of her."

The wolf growled, but she remained in place as Lisa took a tentative step forward and descended the stone stairs, her mentor following after. She had no saddle, and given Seras' proud temperament, there would be no convincing her to wear one. And wolf or not, Lisa truly was no horsewoman. Even when she was a lady's maid, on the rare occasions when her frail mistress went into town, they normally rode in the cart. As she drew closer to the wolf, she realized she barely came up to her shoulder and Seras had to lie down in the snow to accommodate her. Still, Lisa stood at a loss. Even lying down, she couldn't see over the mass of white fur before her.

Then, without a word, Dracula suddenly knelt beside her and knitted his long fingers together for a foothold. Her nerves pulled taut as they were, Lisa felt her face grow hot at the sight and her breathing stuttered for a moment. Not wishing to embarrass herself any further, she tentatively grabbed two fistfuls of Seras' fur, placed her boot in Dracula's hands, and pulled. _Dear lord, don't let me fall over the other side,_ she thought as she swung her leg over, not without some degree of difficulty owed to her tattered linen dress.

Once she was upon her back, Seras straightened and—oh, God, she was so high off the ground. Lisa's grip on the vampire girl's silver fur tightened as her stomach lurched. This was a bad idea. Her fears were not abated when Seras took the liberty of shaking her giant head.

_"__You have money, yes?"_ she asked suddenly. _"I don't want to run all the way there only to find you destitute."_

"I have provided enough coin for her needs," Dracula answered as he rose to his full height again, and not for the first time, Lisa was struck by how tall he was. He certainly would not have had trouble mounting Seras' wolf form. Then again, if he too could become a wolf, he would never have a reason to. She caught her breath as he looked up at her, his hand on the wolf's shoulder. "Do take care with her, Seras. I should not like to see my pupil injured this day."

Seras snorted.

Dracula patted her shoulder and took a step back, bowing his head to Lisa. "My lady."

Somehow, she mustered up enough nerve to return his nod, but words failed her.

"Look after each other."

_"__Yes, sir,_" Seras said. Then a deafening howl shook the air around them and Lisa fought every urge to whimper in fear._ Now she's just being a dreadful braggart, the little brute!_

With a powerful kick of her hindlegs, Seras was off. Down the dirt path, passed the impaled skeletons, and through a flurry of bats taking flight for their evening hunt she loped, accelerating with every bound. Lisa buried her face into the wolf's fur and held on for dear life, half-afraid she would slip off Seras back and be dashed to pieces on the road. How many broken bones did she stand to gain at this height and this speed? Then another part of her mind feared this was the girl's intent, even considering Dracula's warning. Even when they cleared the forecourt and were well on their way down the path, Seras did not slow her speed.

And Lisa did not raise her head.

In truth, she did not remember much of the journey into town, other than the self-imposed darkness pressing in around her as she kept her face buried in the wolf's fur. Nor could she say how long Seras ran without once slowing her gait. On a normal night, Lisa could make the walk to Lupo Village in about two hours, but at the speeds Seras reached, she was unable to tell how long it would be before they arrived. Wind soared passed her as they travelled, and she dared not cry out to Seras. She doubted the wolf would heed her anyway.

With nothing else to do but attach herself like a barnacle, Lisa turned her thoughts inward, first counting the inhale and exhale of her lungs and strove to steady them. The pain that formed in her hands and shoulders and legs was relegated to an empty corner of her mind where it could be ignored for the duration of the journey. When her breathing and heartrate had calmed, she let herself drift back to her studies, reciting the elements of periodic table, complex arithmetic equations, and the medicinal properties of garlic and certain citrus fruits.

Even so, it felt as though hours had lapsed between their departure and Seras finally slowing to a stop and lowering herself to the ground.

_"__We're here."_

The words almost didn't even register, and when they did, Lisa found her fingers so stiff from clutching wolf fur that she could barely undo her fists. With a suppressed dry-heave, she slid down from Seras' back and landed clumsily on the ground before she fell over into the dry grass that had managed to penetrate the snowfall. Not only were her fingers cramped, every part of her spine ached, and the muscles in her legs felt entirely insufficient for support.

_"__You didn't fall off._ That's good," Seras said as she shrank back down to her human guise and brushed hair from her pale face. "Are you all right."

Lisa threw up.

"I guess not."

-0-0-0-

If pressed for honesty, Seras would have claimed that; no, she had in fact not considered dashing through the Wallachian countryside at a casual wolf speed was too much for a human's sensitivities. Truth be told, she'd been startled when Lisa dropped from her back like a rock and proceeded to vomit up her breakfast in the snow. When the woman fell onto her side and lay still, Seras found herself checking her pulse and found, with some degree of relief, that it was normal against all evidence to the contrary.

Some time after she fell, Lisa weakly raised a hand and croaked. "I need a moment."

"Are you going to throw up again?"

A pause. Then…. "No?"

Seras kicked snow over the disgorged mess on the ground and knelt beside her. "Will you recover?"

"…presently, Lady Seras." Slowly, the woman pushed herself upright and shook her head. "My apologies if I caused you worry."

She snorted in response. "Your tolerance of how I conduct myself amuses me. The cynicism does not. Are you well or will you be ill again?"

In answer, Lisa somehow managed to pull herself to her feet and, albeit swaying for a brief spell, looked passed her toward their destination. Seras twisted her head around and smiled not at the thatched rooftops of an inconsequential village but the tall, imposing walls of great city. It sprawled before them in a collection of towers and steeples stark black against the night sky, and Seras knew her unfortunate passenger's senses were not so addled as to not recognize a city where there should have been a village.

"Where are we?"

"Bucharest," Seras yawned. "Wallachia's greatest economic market. Whatever it is you're looking for, be it alchemical compounds or glassware equipment or books, we'll find it here."

As she moved to step toward the main road, she saw Lisa hesitated and paused her steps. "I only wanted to go to Lupo Village, Seras."

"And you did so well during the two league's journey between there and Castle Dracula that I thought I'd reward you by going a bit further." Her eyes narrowed. "Lupo would've been a waste of time an you know it. You're well aware you wouldn't have found _half_ the things on your list. Nothing to haggle over but meat and furs."

Lisa looked at her. "Bucharest is in the opposite direction. You never meant to go to Lupo at all, so why go out of your way to bring me to the Capital?"

"Have you never heard of the perils of looking a gift horse in the mouth?"

"You don't look like a horse to me."

"So you _do _have wit. That's good." Seras grinned at her. "Come. As Master said, humans don't keep their shops open long after dark, so let us get this shopping venture over with. I want to gorge myself on _polenta _and _sarmale_."

-0-0-0-

Author's Notes: Noting the physical differences between how a horse and canine run, riding a wolf sounds painful.

For anyone who's interested, an adult grey wolf can run up 31-37 mph. Since Seras' wolf form is much larger than a normal wolf, I placed her casual at 55-60. At that pace, she could cover the distance between Targoviste and Bucharest in about 54 minutes. (I'm placing Castle Dracula's location, Targoviste, and Lupo Village in roughly the same vicinity for the purposes of Honey and Vinegar.)

For further context, a human's walking speed is approximately 3.1 mph. So if it takes Lisa two hours to walk to Lupo Village, the distance should be about six miles, or two leagues, not taking into account possible terrain issues. Seras would be able to cover the same distance in about 6 minutes.

I own neither of these series.


	5. Thunder

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who's read, followed, favorited, or reviewed or all of the above. Thank you for sticking with it this far. Special thanks to ssjSega for setting up a tropes page for Honey and Vinegar, so check it out if anyone's interested.

Without further ado, here we arrive at Chapter 5.

Stay safe. Stay inside in these dark times.

I own neither of these series.

-0-0-0-

Chapter 5: Thunder

How long had it been since she last set foot in the Capital?

Certainly long enough for new architecture to appear, old structures repurposed, and a general situation where a city map from a century ago would be utterly redundant. Of course it would have to be, Seras thought as she followed Lisa from stall to stall in the lantern-lit market. The humans would have needed to fill in the gaping scar Castle Dracula had left behind. And that didn't even make up the damage from that awful night she and her master had fought and killed the Mad Belmont.

Her thoughts were distracted by the shouts of a baker trying to sell the last of his wares before the cold drove him inside, and Seras offered a courteous but brief inspection before she retreated into the crowd. Day old bread, even at half-price, held little appeal for her. Lisa, on the other hand, did not hesitate to take up a cheap meal and bought two loaves of _țară pâine_. One of these she stuffed in her pack and the other she tore in half to chew on while she consulted the piece of parchment she'd brought with her. Seras had seen it once or twice and always from the wrong side so she'd been unable to read what it said, but from the way Lisa so carefully examined it she figured it was probably a list. So far, their trip had acquired a bag of salt, a pouch of black cumin seeds from the Mediterranean, wormwood, thistle milk, bulbs for growing onions, leeks, and garlic, and a myriad of other items of the produce, herbal, or alchemical nature.

"This won't be too heavy for you on the return journey, will it?" Lisa asked. "I'm trying to be moderate, but…"

"It doesn't matter." Seras frowned. "Have you never been to the Capital, Lisa?"

"Once." They ducked to the side to avoid a horse and cart lumbering by. "I was chasing a rumor of an alchemist who lived in the city, but he turned out to be just a conjuring man."

"It's annoying how often that will happen."

The woman smiled at her. "What of you? When was the last time you came to Bucharest?"

"Not since my master moved the castle from the city. And that was almost a hundred years ago."

"The castle used to be in the middle of Bucharest?"

She grinned slyly. "Dracula hasn't always been the quiet, retiring lord you've met."

Lisa returned her grin with a soft smile. "I've heard the stories."

Stories indeed. Seras laughed to herself. "And what kind of stories have you heard, Lisa? What sort of wild tales do mothers tell their children these days? Folktales? Or is it just church-approved religious yarns?"

"The church doesn't forbid folktales, Seras," Lisa chided as they skirted a pen where a woman was selling chickens. "They just…prefer the pious context."

Seras grimaced. "That could be anything. A hundred years ago, tales about the Belmonts painted them as national heroes. Nowadays, they're regarded as heretics and devil-worshipers, and most of their 'great deeds' have been overwritten as the doings of some saint or even an angel in some versions. But I suppose the Church had to cover up their stories somehow when they discredited the family."

"You speak as though you feel sorry for them."

"You don't?" She turned and peered into Lisa's startled face. "I thought you of all people would understand the indignity of slander. Or are you comfortable with the accusation that you are a witch?"

"But isn't the Belmont family's ambition to exterminate your kind, Lady Seras?"

She shrugged. "And yet Master and I haven't overrun their ancestral home and obliterated them from the earth."

Lisa opened her mouth to speak, stopped, and stared in confusion. "…No. You haven't. Is the estate hidden?"

"God, no, they live near Argeș. Less than four leagues from Poenari Castle."

She could see the gears turning rapidly in the woman's head. "But isn't Poenari _your_ home? You mean to say you live with vampire hunters in your backyard? Don't you worry about attacks? Don't _they_ worry about attacks?"

"Two words, Lisa," Seras said as she abruptly stopped and bent to examine the wares of a jeweler's cart. "Population control."

"I'm sorry?"

"Vampires have no natural predators aside from other vampires. Or maybe a werewolf or some equally ferocious monsters. As such, if left to run amok unchecked, devouring or turning humans at random, our primary food source dwindles and serious infighting starts. It's why small vampire households like mine or solitary living like my master are much more self-sustaining and efficient than a territorial vampire army."

"An army?"

"A logistical nightmare." Seras picked up a necklet of rubies and pearl for closer examination. "Too many vampires and fledglings to feed. Too many to keep track of. Overhunting and deserters are a common problem. Rogue vampires cause trouble, create instability, and generally cause disruption as they seek to carve out their own territories, namely by stealing them from an existing vampire. Understand?"

"I believe so." Lisa nodded slowly. "But I fail to see how a family of hunters factors in. Surely you can deal with intruders on your own—oh."

Seras smiled, removing the purse from her belt. "Catch on?"

"You're just lazy."

"I wouldn't call it that," she demurred and waited patiently for the trader to finish cajoling another buyer. "It's just that I don't see the point in fighting my own battles when there's an entire clan of hunters who will inadvertently do it for me. Excuse me, good sir. How much for this one?"

"But if the Belmont family lives so close to your fortress," Lisa pointed out as Seras counted her coins and pressed them into the merchant's hand without bothering to haggle. "Surely they know about you as well. What's to stop them from sieging your home and destroying you?"

"A really steep mountain for one," Seras said as they stepped away from the cart. "Poenari can't be sieged easily. And my household can fend off a small-scale assault. And besides," She smiled back at Lisa as she clasped the necklet around her throat. "I don't really give them any trouble and I ensure the household doesn't either, so I'm rather low on their list of priorities compared to other vampires."

"Still, the threat is there."

"And an earthquake could strike tomorrow, yet do I live in fear?"

Lisa had no response for that, and for a time ot a word was traded between them as the two women passed by a cluster of stalls and carts selling everything from ceramic pots to broomsticks and fabrics. It was before the latter Lisa came to a sudden stop and Seras beat a hasty retreat as the merchant came forward and snared her companion in an endless epic of his wares, their quality, their origin. All greatly exaggerated, of course, and Seras did not bother suppressing her laughter as Lisa frantically tried to extricate herself from the situation. The merchant, knowing he had a captive audience, took up her hands and playfully chided her over the frayed and threadbare state of her sleeves. By the time Lisa finally gave an abrupt apology and practically fled, Seras was barely containing guffaws.

"No, stay, please!" she roared. "It was just getting good! He might have talked you into buying out his stock!"

"Enough," Lisa cried, her cheeks red as they hurried through the thinning crowd.

"But really, Lisa," Seras continued once she'd sobered a little. "Would not have been such a poor idea to purchase some fabric. Merchant or not, he did raise some valid points. Has my master not seen fit to provide you with better clothing?"

Lisa did not answer immediately, her hands tightening the red shawl around her shoulders as she looked back, then down where her feet trod.

"I ask out of curiousity, of course. As his daughter and fledgling, I've always been well provided for, but surely a student wouldn't receive so varied treatment."

"I…declined such favor."

"Oh? I call that rather foolish of you. That shawl can't keep you very warm. Not in this weather. You must've had your reasons to spurn my master's kindness."

"He's done so much for me already, Seras," the young woman finally answered. "And one does not simply accept gifts from the lord of a castle."

Seras blinked in confusion and tilted her head. "Even if offered freely?"

"It's never free." Lisa's voice was surprisingly bitter, and she refused to meet her eye. "A gift is always expected to be repaid."

What a peculiar sentiment, Seras thought and turned to the east wall where the moon was just beginning to peer over the battlements. Time was nearly up. Soon the market would close and the city gates would not be far behind. They would need to be well beyond them when that happened, lest she be forced to climb the wall with Lisa clinging to her shoulders. Somehow, the vampiress doubted her companion would find that anymore enjoyable than be hauled across Wallachia on a wolf's back.

"Surely you've seen my master has been good to you," she said. _He intends for you to be my stepmother._ "He allows you into his home. He ensures you have food. Why not accept clothes or other finery?"

"Leave it, Seras."

"No. I am curious." She glared at her. "Do not mistake my master's generosity for the conniving wiles of a petty lord."

"You're his daughter. He has a responsibility by you."

"And _you_ are his student. The same applies." Seras huffed. "At least buy a dress that doesn't have holes in it. You're all rags and tatters."

"I haven't the money."

"Dracula won't mind if you use his coin for that."

"No, Seras." The woman fixed her with a hard stare. "Just…no. I won't argue with you on this. My clothes are fine."

Seras returned her gaze with an icy stare of her own before she shrugged. "Suit yourself. Have you found everything you needed?"

"Not quite," Lisa said with a small sigh of relief. "I still need—"

"Do it quickly then. We have to leave before they shut the city gates."

-0-0-0-

If asked point blank, Lisa would have freely admitted she was not keen on another terrifying run back to the castle. Truthfully, she was not yet recovered from the earlier trip. Her fingers and back still ached and the muscles in her legs were horribly cramped to the point where she would have limped had either limb hurt worse than the other.

Still, she did not want to be trapped within the Capital's walls with an annoyed vampiress. Even more so, she did not want to imagine a scenario where Seras was so eager to escape the city that she simply climbed the wall like a lizard and took off, with or without her. And flight sounded even worse than wolf-back. So Lisa made her final rounds of the market, acquiring a few last minute substances such as zinc and chalk, as well as a few more foodstuffs for the larder at the castle. Sugar, tea from the Orient, flour, and so on.

Then Seras was tugging at her worn sleeve and muttering. "Eight bells, Lisa. They close the gates in a half hour." And then they were off again.

Thankfully, the journey back was not the same harrowing dash through the mountains as it had been earlier, though Lisa suspected this was owed to Seras being worn out from the evening's events rather than by choice. She loped slowly along the twists and turns of the mountain paths toward home. How she knew the way, Lisa could not fathom, but her reduced speed had allowed a view of the beautiful night. The moon glinted on the snow and cast long shadows from the tall conifers and barren oaks. Now and then a group of deer bolted at the sight of them or an owl hooted in the silence.

Now and then, Seras paused to listen to some sound and, once, a clump of snow dislodged from an overhead branch and plopped onto her head, startling her so badly she stopped and looked around as though someone had thrown it at her. Nonetheless, the pair continued their return journey without incident, passing along the mountain paths with ease until Seras suddenly came to a stop, her head raised and her ears forward.

"Are you tired?" Lisa asked.

"Quiet," came the response and the wolf's head jerked to the left. Beneath her hands, Lisa felt her hackles begin to crawl and stand on end. Seras stood tall and still on the path, her ears twitching with every unheard noise and her tail erect. She lifted her nose and sniffed the air, then sank into a crouch. "Get down, Lisa. Quickly."

As soon as the young woman was on the ground, Seras slipped back into her human form and glared into the darkness just to the side of the path, her hand reaching for the wrapped sword on her back. Lisa followed her gaze and took a breath to steady herself. She wanted to question the girl as to what had her so on edge. A night creature? Another vampire? A hunter? But she held her peace as Seras alternated between squinting and relaxing her eyes, clenching and unclenching her fists, until finally:

"I see you."

Lisa swallowed.

From out of the shadows, the vague shape of a figure approached. Snow crunched beneath its boots and it walked with the purposeful stride of one who knows he's been caught and doesn't care. Bipedal, Lisa noted with a careful breath. Tall, though not as tall as her mentor. Then, in the pale light of the moon, she finally saw the stranger's cold pallor and knew him for what he was.

Vampire.

"Good eve, Godbrand," Seras said coolly beside her.


	6. Dragon

Chapter 6: Dragon

"It's been some time, hasn't it? Some summers at least."

The figure laughed somewhat as he stepped into the road and Lisa did not fail to observe the axe he carried with him. "Oltenița, wasn't it?"

"How could I forget?" The vampiress stepped forward with her arms outstretched as though to embrace the newcomer. "Although I do wish I could've seen your face when I decimated your fleet. I wish _you_ could have seen what I did to your fleet. Such a shame you didn't stick around. It was spectacular."

A lump of unease grew in Lisa's throat as 'Godbrand' bared his fangs and let out a low growl.

"So much fire," Seras continued. "Like Hell on the river."

"You don't fight honorably, Draculina."

"Of course I don't fight honorably. How exactly am I supposed to extend to you a fair fight when you yourself rely on old-fashioned tactics and outdated weaponry? Your warriors carry swords and wear minimal armor." Lisa turned to find her with a smug expression. "It's standard dueling practice, Godbrand. You challenged me. I chose the weapons. Surely you didn't come all this way just to pick a fight, did you?"

It was clear from Godbrand's stance that he had come to fight, Lisa thought. In addition to the axe he carried with him, she saw two swords and at least one dagger belted at his waist. Four weapons to Seras' one blade. In addition, Seras did appear to be the weaker of the two vampires. Despite her often predatory demeanor, her body appeared to be that of a nineteen or twenty year old woman, considerably smaller than her male counterpart. God, and Dracula had confided in her that she'd been the victim of another vampire's cruelty once.

"You left business unfinished in Oltenița," Godbrand answered her. "I'm here to collect my due."

"Seras," Lisa cautioned as she reached out to grab her arm. The vampiress looked at her in surprise, as though she'd forgotten she was there at all. "Please…" Please what? Clearly there was a history between these two to which she was not party. Whether it was stewing grudge of a few years or Oltenița was just another offense in a lifelong feud, what right did she have to intervene? Given Seras' bottomless pride, it was likely any attempt to do so would be taken as an insult. Regardless, she did not want to see anyone injured in such a manner. "Seras, is there no way to avoid bloodshed? Are you able to walk away?"

Seras' red eyes flashed at the question, the grim line of her lips pursing together. So it was a matter of pride.

"Please," she said again. "I don't want to see you injured."

To her relief, Seras did appear to give the matter some thought. She blew a long sigh through her lips and closed her eyes, then called to Godbrand. "My lady companion has no stomach for violence. Would you be inclined as to excuse my offenses for a little longer?"

"What? The livestock?" the vampire on the road spat. "I don't give a shit about some human's sensitivities. No, I've waited too long to settle this, Draculina, and I won't be denied that."

Seras let out a disgusted sigh. "You know, were I just another male vampire, you would have counted your losses like a man and strategically retreated back to the north to conquer someone else's domain, but no. You needed to march all the way down to Wallachia because you can't accept losing a fight to a woman."

Lisa felt the blood drain from her face as Godbrand raised his axe, but beside her, Seras remained composed as a porcelain doll. She pulled her arm out of Lisa's grasp, squared her feet on the road, and muttered, "Ass." And without another word, the vampire lady pulled at the red cloth protecting her sword, unfurling it like a banner and letting settle on the snow behind her.

Seras' sword was…strange. The hilt, for one, was broad, bulky, and shaped like a wedge rather than any sword grip Lisa had ever seen. The blade itself appeared to be a blunt shaft, as though it were meant for bludgeoning opponents rather than cutting them down, and she held it at arm's length, dull pointed directed toward her opponent. There was a spark, a hiss, and then a sound like thunder. Lisa screamed without meaning to, and up the road, a tree branch exploded over the other vampire's shoulder in a shower of wooden splinters. Somewhere in the darkness, a flock of crows took flight, cawing angrily amid a flurry of black feathers.

Godbrand's head twisted on his neck like a snapped trap and looked at the decimated branch with more astonishment than Lisa had thought possible for a vampire.

"My God, the schematics on this thing are terrible." Seras huffed irritably. "I was aiming for his head."

Slowly, Lisa turned to look at her and found Seras' countenance twisted in an awful grin, her eyes wide and excited. Like the face of a demon given all the sinners in Hell to torment as she pleased. "You're going to best me?" she called. "C'mere and try it, you feckless, cock-witted whoremonger!"

Lisa barely had the presence of mind to retreat when Godbrand charged, and when she did, she fell back against the snow, scrambling away and tripping over her skirts and scattered supplies in her panic. Another thundercrack shook the air, and she looked back just in time to see Lady Seras deflect a blow from Godbrand's axe and return with a strike of her long nails. The male vampire pulled back to avoid it, and Seras adjusted her grip on her strange weapon where she began to tinker with what Lisa had assumed was the sword's hilt or guard. The movement was quick and precise, and less than a heartbeat had passed before Seras extended her arm and the thundercrack resounded through the night again. Snow exploded at Godbrand's feet, but he rushed at Seras undeterred, his axe raised. Immediately, she responded by swinging her weapon around until she held it in both hands, effectively blocking the axe-head before it reached her.

But Lisa saw the enemy's sword strike from below, and Seras hissed in anger as much as pain when the blade drove deep into her torso. Nonetheless, she was able to raise her foot and jabbed at Godbrand with such force that he fell back against the snow.

_Rib fractures,_ Lisa thought as she continued to back away, taking cover behind one of the dormant oak trees. _Punctured lungs. Perforated bowel, liver, and diaphragm. Ruptured heart chambers if the angle was right and the blade long enough._

Blood spattered from Seras' lips, confirming the presence of a damaged lung, but her mouth twisted into that vile grin again as she took aim and discharged her weapon again. This time, Godbrand roared in pain as a bloody wound appeared in his shoulder and a series of colorful obscenities filled the air.

_Damage to the deltoid muscle, right clavicle, and perhaps the scapula. Possible rupture of apex of the right lung._ Lisa turned to Seras to see her tapping the end of the strange, blunt blade with her long fingers, then swinging it around to work with the hilt again. What _was_ that thing? It certainly couldn't have been a sword. Swords cut, _metal_ cut. This…she covered her ears as the vampire lady took aim, but before the sound of the thundercrack, Godbrand suddenly rose from the snow and hurled himself forward.

Seras widened her eyes in surprise as he closed the gap with the inhumane speed known only to vampires and lashed out with his axe. The sound of metal striking metal filled the air and Lisa saw friction sparks between the two vampires. Again, the axe was a feint, but Seras was ready this time. As Godbrand swung his shortsword around, she suddenly twisted and closed her sharp fangs over the blade, shattering it before Lisa could blink. Then she threw herself back, a spark appeared at her fingertips, then _BANG!_

Lisa didn't see where the enemy vampire was hit, but she heard his cursing. Seras' weapon was long-range, that much was clear. But how? What was causing the injuries to appear in her opponent? She saw neither arrow nor bolt as one did with a crossbow or longbow. Was it some form of sorcery? Or just a form of science she hadn't yet learned to understand?

"Come on!" Seras snarled. "You came here to settle a score, didn't you?"

Godbrand did not answer her; instead, he suddenly rushed forward, only to veer to the right at the last moment and bound off one of the nearby trees. In turn, Seras pivoted sharply on one foot and Lisa heard a startled shriek as the axe-head was embedded in her raised arm. Then her opponent drew his second sword and made a slash for her pale face. This, Seras managed to evade, her left arm dangling uselessly at her side.

_Severed ulnaris muscles. Possible broken ulna and radius._

Just as Godbrand circled her for a second attack, likely a similar one as the first had proved effective, Seras suddenly removed her fine, red cloak and hurled it over him. Again, the thundercrack split the night and again, Lisa heard cursing. By the time Godbrand managed to tear the cloak aside, Seras had again retreated and readied her weapon, but he was too fast for her.

Lisa never saw the vampire move. One moment, he was crouched in the snow, ready to spring toward her mentor's daughter, then Seras was the one bellowing curses as her strange weapon was torn from her hands and the axe, or was it the sword, rent open her face from her jaw to the bridge of her nose.

"Seras!"

A loud snarl filled the air as the vampire lady bared her fangs, a crimson matter erupting from her shoulders into a writhing lattice-work of what could only be called scarlet wings. Blackened and jagged red tendrils of blood and shadow spread across the snow, swift and silent as they moved to strike the enemy down. At this, Godbrand had the good sense to retreat, and Lisa too found herself backing away even further was the demonic form of Seras Victoria Draculina stalked forward.

This, she thought with a shudder, is why they called her Draculina.

Daughter of Dracula.

"I'm going to make this hurt, you know," Seras growled, her voice hollow and haunting.

Godbrand curled his lip in a sneer, brandishing axe and remaining sword alike. "We'll see."

_I have to stop them! They'll kill each other!_

-0-0-0-

From what Seras knew of Godbrand, aside from his arrogance and general bad temper, she knew he was centuries older than her and far more experienced in close-range combat. That was to be expected from one who'd begun training to fight as soon as he'd been able to walk and was strong enough to hold a spear. As opposed to her, his human life had been a near constant stream of raids on the shores of two islands that now harbored nations called Scotland, Ireland, England, and Wales. He claimed to have seen the other side of the great ocean to the west. He claimed to have been to the eastern Orient.

And since he'd survived over forty winters as a mortal, a mark of long life for a human, Seras knew that his combat ability was nothing to scoff at. He had a particular fighting style that was difficult to counter. Lightning speed and incredible brutality that forced her into a defensive strategy more often than she was comfortable. Strike terror into the enemy and render them paralyzed with fear. The tactic may have been old-fashioned, but effective tactics never truly died out, did they.

Seras launched herself forward, black tendrils following after as she aimed a flying kick toward Godbrand. He dodged at the last minute, but as she landed, her shadow blood suddenly scattered across the torn up surface of the snow, racing toward their quarry in a succession of razor-sharp knives. In retaliation, Godbrand threw himself skyward, too far and too fast for the shadow to follow him. She didn't bother to dodge as he crashed down on top of her. Rather, she bared her teeth and went for his throat as soon as she was in range. It was a risky maneuver and earned her a blow to the back of her head and several cracked ribs when he landed, but it left a gaping hole in Godbrand's neck that bled freely onto the snow.

It wasn't enough to make him retreat, though. _Fool!_ Seras grinned. The bastard was well in range. All she had to do was recall her shadow and skewer him, and this would be over! _I have you now!_

She didn't see the dagger until it was too late. For an instant, she saw the flash of a blade in the moonlight…

…and then she saw no more.

Crimson erupted across her vision as Seras fell back against the snow, and her hands went immediately to her eyes in the vain hope of removing the obstruction. But even before the red darkened to blackness, she knew the truth. An agonized cry spilled from her lips as she clutched at her face, hot blood streaming through her fingers.

"I gotta hand it to you, Draculina," Godbrand was saying as he backed away. "It was a good fight. Dracula's taught you well."

"You beast!" she snarled. As she made her way to her hands and knees, she raised her ruined eyes to look at him. Something smashed against her head and knocked her down again. As she lay in the snow, she could hear Lisa's heart pounding, her terrified gasps for air. She could smell her fear. _Poor thing. Caught up in all this._ "You know you won't leave this without retribution. Dracula values me too much."

A rapid series of footfalls approached and an unforgiving hand seized the back of her head, wrenching her upright. "If you're still talking, you must have some fight left in you. Come on. Stand up and face me, bitch. What's wrong? Can't use that damn shadow if you can't see it?"

Seras already scrambling for anything that could be used as a weapon. _Come on, come on, there has to be something here that can give me an edge!_ Then her fingertips brushed against something cold and solid. With a gasp, her hand closed around the weighty object and clutched it tight.

As a vulnerable human woman, exactly how many men had she fought off, tooth and nail?

A knife if she had one?

Or a large rock if she could find one?

With an enraged cry, Seras twisted beneath her assailant and swung her arm around. The jagged rock in her hand connected with flesh and bone and she heard a howl of pain. Godbrand lashed out at her, but she was back on her feet, his cursing voice leading her straight to him. She struck him again, and her long nails connected and drew blood. "You thought taking my _sight_ would bring me down? I have a servant who does that for _fun!_"

At the sound of a boot crunching in the snow, she hurled the rock toward the sound and grinned at the pained grunt that followed. "You had better fucking run, Godbrand! If I catch you, I'm going to kill you! And don't think I can't catch you in this state!"

She didn't give him time to think. As soon as her thrashing shadow located him, she leaped forward, fingers and long nails outstretched like talons—

"Enough!"

Seras was so startled by the command she actually froze, for the voice was not Godbrand's grating tone but Lisa! As for the _Berserker Draugr _himself, he appeared to be in a similar state of dismay, being addressed so by livestock. A lamb might as well have spoken up for all he knew.

"The fuck?" he spat. "Who the hell are you to give _me_ orders?"

Seras said nothing and tried to listen for Lisa's pounding heart and forcibly steady breathing. There…she was about five meters away, facing them in the open and her hands…. _Is she holding my firearm?_ She didn't even know how to use it! Furthermore, the flint-stone she'd been using to light the fuze was still tucked in her sleeve, so Lisa didn't have any means of igniting the gundpowder anyway. Not to mention, it was too heavy for a human to use without a tripod.

"You both have spilled enough blood here!" Lisa shouted. "Go now. I've contacted Count Vlad Dracula Țepeș through a distance mirror."

_What?_

"Unless you want to be torn apart by the vampire king himself, I suggest you leave quickly," Lisa continued, and the firearm shook violently. Now that she'd focused better, Seras was certain she held it in both hands, and the full weight of it was pulling her arms down. The image must've looked hilarious to Godbrand.

"Now that's just not fair," Godbrand growled, and Seras heard a footstep. Forward or backward? Another. Definitely backward. "God dammnit, fine. I didn't plan to take on the old bastard himself tonight." To Seras, he added, "We'll finish this another time."

She did not deign to give him a response. Her shadow surged behind her and lashed out, forcing the vampire back, and eventually, she heard his retreat disturbing the snow beyond the treeline.

"My God, Seras!" Lisa's voice cried out, and she heard her rapid approach and felt her hands hovering between them, as though she meant to examine her or embrace her. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Stop yelling."

"But…your eyes…"

"They'll repair," she groaned as she waved her away and took a step forward. "My body…heals abnormally quickly, even by vampire standards. As long as I don't take on too much damage too quickly, I can come back from just about…"

She trailed off as a lightheaded feeling washed over her and she would've tumbled headlong into the snow were it not for Lisa suddenly grasping her arm and draping it over her shoulders. Damn, how severely _was_ she hurt? Her torso was healing and she could feel the fingers in her left hand again. But her eyes…. _Shit._ "That was a bluff, right?" she asked. "About Master coming?"

There was an awkward pause, then, "Yes."

_Thought so._

"You're bleeding badly, Seras. We should find shelter until you recover."

"I'm going home," she snarled as she took a step forward. "Guide me back to the main road. All I can smell is blood."

"I don't—"

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes," Lisa said uncertainly, and Seras heard the rustle of her clothes as the woman looked around. "The fight took us away from the road, Lady Seras…I don't know which direction we came from."

"Are you serious?"

She obviously couldn't see Lisa's face, but she imagined the sheepish expression of a child who'd mislaid all the important farming tools for the harvest. "Fine." With a disgusted sigh, Seras sat down again and crossed her legs. "We'll wait."

-0-0-0-

Author's Notes: You know, it never occurred to me how difficult it would be to write a fight scene like this from the point of view of someone who'd never seen a gun before.

I wanted to keep the element of Seras' fighting style from canon, which includes her hand to hand combat and her use of weaponry. Originally, she was going to use a crossbow or other long-range weapon, but then I remembered hand-held firearms were just starting to enter the picture around this time in history. However, in 1455, they were little more than bulky, 'miniature' cannons that were too heavy to use practically, not to mention loading them was a complex nightmare. Here, Seras' firearm is a version of an arquebus, a rifle-like firearm that was invented in mid-1400s Spain. There may be some creative liberties with its appearance here, so I apologize to any firearm enthusiasts who may or may not be reading this. Finding reliable sources for this subject matter on the internet is difficult, and any sort of technology where Dracula is involved should probably be taken with a grain of salt. Let's just assume Seras has modified a crude early weapon into something a bit more effective for her use. Plus, the issue of a firearm being too heavy for a human wouldn't be an issue for a vampire.

All in all, Police Girl still has her 'cannon.'

I own neither of these series.


	7. Animosity

Chapter 7: Animosity

"You're dying to ask, I know," Seras muttered when Lisa had retrieved her firearm and cloak from where they'd been discarded. The latter, with begrudging permission, the human woman wrapped around herself to keep warm in the cold, mountain air.

"I-I don't—" she stammered, and in retrospect, Seras realized Lisa probably had a lot of questions about their current state of affairs. From the outlook of a novice physician, she would want to know how long it would take her eyes to heal. Or how long it would take her body to heal overall. The answer, if Seras were to guess, was probably the better part of a half hour. Of course, she thought as she gingerly felt the coagulating scabs where her eyes used to be, the process would go much faster if she had fresh blood to speed it along. However, the only human for leagues around was Lisa and she somehow doubted Master would be pleased if she appropriated his precious pupil's vital fluid for her own use.

From the view of a naïve human who'd seen little of the world, Seras imagined Lisa had questions about her firearm and the black powder that fueled it.

In the end, Seras chose to adhere to her original presumption and grumbled, "You want to know why we—or shall I say _I_—was so violently accosted by that brute."

Silence answered her. All around them was silence. Animals had fled in fear of the fight and even the wind had gone still. Only the sound of Lisa's breathing and her apprehensive heartbeat were discernible to Seras in her darkened world and a swathe of fury swept over her at the loss of her eyes.

"A few years ago," she began. "Godbrand showed up in Wallachia with the intent to expand his territory by monopolizing the ports of the Danube River."

"I thought he was from the north," Lisa said. "His armor had Scandinavian patterns."

"Yes, he's from the north," Seras conceded. "He used to hold considerable territories throughout Rus, the Baltics, even as far south as the Black Sea. He's a brute, but he knows the business of war well, and he knew control of the Danube means control of trade, which in turn controls the wealth, which ultimately controls the land."

"Because the Danube has been a highway for trade ever since the Roman Empire?"

"Correct."

She heard a rustle of clothing as Lisa shifted. "So you yourself fought Godbrand? This wasn't something you could leave to the Belmonts as you usually do?"

Seras shook her head and immediately regretted it for the stabbing pains dealt to her empty eye sockets. "No. This was more than just an errant rogue vampire causing havoc in my territory.

That said, the clan wasn't entirely without its uses. After all, an armada of Viking warships and berserkers pillaging and murdering its way up the Danube River wasn't exactly something the Belmonts could ignore. By the time Seras arrived in Oltenița, they had already mustered what few forces that remained loyal to them and had gathered on the riverbank to await the northern invaders, and she and hers passed through that encampment unhindered.

Hunters challenged. Ordinary folk just got out of the way.

The Belmonts all jumped like pheasants when she entered their tent, flanked by Walter and the Werewolf Captain. Four of the family had turned out for this affair, the matriarch Integra herself seated at the head of the table, her sole ice blue eye widening when she saw her. Seras met the woman's alarm with an impertinent grin and settled into a chair at their table. "Greetings dear friends and most hated nemeses. Is there nothing to drink?"

The uproar that followed was akin to said pheasants belatedly realizing their intruder was a hungry fox. Weapons were out on both sides of the table with impossible speed: whip, shortsword, wires, daggers, long pistol, sorcery. All except for Seras and Integra, who eyed each other down across the table, one grinning and one solemn, the map of Oltenița and the Danube spread out between them like a banner.

Draculina and the Iron Maiden.

They'd rivaled each other for years.

"I have a proposition for you, Belmont."

"I'm sure you do, Seras." Integra bid her family to stand down, much to the dismay of her sons and daughter. "So have you come here to offer information or aid?"

"More accurate information than your scouts could even dream to offer," she answered. "And perhaps some aid, too." She then relayed to them what Schrödinger had reported to her, having seen and been aboard Godbrand's ships himself. She told them exactly how many vampires they faced, most of them low-level, just a step above night creatures, what sort of weapons they carried, and what tactics to expect from the Vikings. "They are _Berserker draugar_. Ancient warriors that channel fear into rage, and from it can achieve extraordinary strength, even for Nosferatu, without the fear of pain or death."

"Why do you tell us this? Leonel Belmont had demanded of her. He had a somewhat crooked nose, if she remembered right, courtesy of having been punched in the face by a Speaker some years ago. Though what manner of quarrel had incited a Speaker to violence she couldn't imagine. "What do you stand to gain, Draculina?" He said her name like a curse.

Seras merely glared at him and may have chosen a few well-placed insults had his brother not spoken up. She owed her infinite gratitude to Arthur Belmont's incredible perception. An outlier even amongst his own family, Arthur was a shrewd tactician, certainly more bookish than his brother and sister, and more inclined to diplomacy than brute force. He was one of the few members of his clan who saw vampires as individuals, each with their own personality, ambition, even code of honor. "These invaders are no friends of yours, are they." he realized. "So you are here to make allies of us."

"Alliance is too much to hope for." She shrugged. "But you're right. I don't want them in Wallachia any more than you do. And we'll all have much better luck if we at least cooperate in driving them out instead of attacking each other, right? What say you, Integra?"

Anne Belmont, the only surviving daughter, was adamantly against it. "It's a trap," she said in that sharp voice was so similar to her mother's. "She means to use us. As soon as the Norsemen are destroyed, she'll turn on our forces and wipe us out. What vampire wouldn't take such an opportunity to remove two enemies?"

"The Lady Seras has made use of your family far longer than you've even been alive, Miss Anne," Walter spoke up.

"And _you_ have been our enemy longer than even Dracula himself, damn him to Hell," Anne spat, then returned her attention to Integra. "Mother, you and all three of your children are right here in one place. If Draculina takes this opportunity to destroy us, who will stop her from turning her eye to Isabel, Rodica, and the children?"

"She's right," Leonel said. "We're gambling with the lives of our sons and daughters if we accept help from the fledgling of Dracula."

Integra sighed and leaned back in her chair then. "You two seem to have latched onto the idea that Lady Seras Victoria Draculina has any intention to withdraw from the field at all."

"Mother, I—"

"I was born here in Wallachia, Leonel Belmont," Seras interrupted, fixing the man with a hard stare. "Just as you were. Just as your father and mother were. Just as all the descendants of your ancestor, Leon. Why the hell are we wasting our time quarreling over the hypotheticals and maybe's? The fact of the matter remains that I am not fighting for you but _with _you. Not because I don't hate you, make no mistake of that, but because I'll be damned if I'll be ruled by a barbarian from the North."

Silence fell upon them, the Belmont siblings alternating between exchanging glances with each other and casting wary ones toward Seras and her companions. Integra merely poured herself a glass of that Seras recognized as an imported wine and waited for her children to catch up with what she, in her superior age and experience, had already figured out.

Neither party would be turning away from this fight, and it was amazing how quickly rivals could drop their lifelong animosity in light of a common foe. Wisdom is trusting the Devil one knew best and all.

Finally, Arthur smiled and rose from his chair. "Hear, hear. So the Red Death would rather associate with Belmonts than her own kind. That has to account for something, no?"

In retrospect…that fateful decision may have been the evidence of 'dealing in black magic' the Church needed for the family's eventual excommunication.

Despite its prologue, the skirmish itself was nothing remarkable. The invading forces arrived on their shores, expecting yet another river city caught off their guard. Though if Seras were to guess, the Norse were not disappointed at the prospect of a good fight. A battle was like a symphony if one lived without the fear of death, although Leonel had once argued that living without death wasn't living at all.

Boorish as he was, Godbrand had the right of it when he claimed the battle to be unfair. He had the advantage of numbers, even with the human forces the Belmonts had raised, but she had the better advantage of superior arms, her small elite team, and a temporary peace with their sworn enemy. Before they even landed, Seras had sunk two of the warships with her cannon, and Zorin's terrifying Nightmare managed to deceive the crews of three more into believing their ships were sinking or on fire.

"So you fought?"

Sightlessly, Seras looked at Lisa and nodded. "Everyone proved their worth that day, even the idiots in my household. And, together with Integra Belmont, I defeated Godbrand and he ordered the retreat of his soldiers."

"I didn't know the Belmont women fought at all," Lisa said. "They don't mention that in any of the legends."

Seras shrugged. "They're not like other families. Women don't inherit, so it doesn't really matter if the daughters marry and contribute to the family line, does it?"

"Then how is Lady Integra the matriarch?"

A bark of laughter escaped Seras as her right eye began to register light again. "That wizened battle axe seized power as soon as Old Man Belmont kicked it the year before Oltenița. Technically, Leonel is the heir, but I think he fears his mother a little too much to assert his claim. Just as well, she's a brilliant commander. Her organization of their forces during the battle was incredible."

"What happened then?" Lisa asked. "After Godbrand retreated, I mean."

At that, Seras fell quiet and the smile faded from her face. Even she wasn't proud of what happened next. "I could have let him go, but I saw then a terrible opportunity to pay back tenfold the insult he'd dealt to my sire's lands, as well as warn off any others who would think to invade. While you've been my master's apprentice, have you heard of gunpowder?"

"I haven't." She pictured the woman shaking her head.

Seras nodded. "Its a mixture of potassium nitrate, charcoal which provides carbon, and sulfur which provides the fuel."

"And when you set it aflame, it ignites?"

She nodded again. "So while Godbrand was in retreat, I had my own forces chase down his remaining ships and cover them in the black powder. We filled the river with lamp oil. And then I struck a flame."

To be fair, she had not anticipated quite so ferocious an explosion. One minute, she saw ships in the night, and then a brilliant red flame irradiated the darkness. Seras remembered the pain as her eyes made the adjustment from darkness to the most intense light she'd ever seen. It was almost like the sun she hadn't seen for a lifetime. The souls of _draugar _were released into the night, screaming as they went. How any of them could have survived such devastation she didn't know. The remaining humans on the shore broke ranks and panicked, scattering here and there with all the coordination of ants in a disturbed anthill. She didn't blame them. The enormity of what she'd done frightened her as well.

The Hell River.

"It was a dishonorable thing to do, decimating an army that was already in retreat. But until tonight, it has earned Wallachia a lengthy reprieve from invading vampires."

-0-0-0-

When Seras finished her tale, Lisa released a breath of air she didn't know she'd been holding.

No wonder Godbrand had been angry enough to want her dead. Not only had she defeated him in battle—and the fact she was a woman seemed to grate even more—she had utterly crippled his forces and made further attempts impossible. Then she remembered how Seras had said he'd once held dominion over a large scale of territory. Rus, the Baltics, the Black Sea…had he lost them all after Seras destroyed his means to maintain them?

_She toppled an empire in one, fell swoop._ Even though she was so young. No…. "How old are you, Seras?"

The vampire lady opened her eyes, now a pair of smooth, unseeing, white orbs, and looked at her, or rather past her. "I…don't know for sure. I was born to human parents in the peasant class. They were unable to read or write, so my date of birth wasn't recorded. If I were to guess…I was around nineteen or so when I died. So one hundred and twenty roughly?" Upon answering, Seras' demeanor became thoughtful. Even melancholy. "I died pretty young now that I think of it. Then again, I suppose that's a common age for a woman to live to, right? Most girls die in childbirth or something equally horrible by twenty, don't they?"

"I'm going to change that, Seras," Lisa said. "What your father is teaching me will change the world. With real medicine, every mother will live to see their children grow up strong and happy. They'll see grandchildren and even great-grandchildren."

"You have a vivid imagination."

_Imagination!_ "Within something as insignificant as a clump of dirt, there is a horde of miniscule creatures beyond counting and if—"

"I know what you're getting at. I am familiar with microbiology and its threat to human health," Seras interrupted. "What I don't believe is that you can convince a gaggle of humans how important hygiene is. For God's sake, they still believe blessing a chunk of bread that's been shit on will purify it enough for consumption."

"Then teach them otherwise," Lisa cried. "You are a vampire with ancient knowledge, Seras. Think of what the world could be if you spread everything you know to mankind."

"Even if 'everything I know' includes gunpowder and other terrible weapons? If I shared everything _I_ knew, the human race would cease to exist as _you_ know it."

"You know that isn't what I meant." Lisa sighed wearily and sat back on her haunches, her head low. "You're so bitter all the time, Seras. Why are you so bitter?"

She expected no answer, and Seras gave none. She merely turned away in an angry huff.

_"__I am afraid Seras has been shown little compassion from the human race and therefore harbors no love for them."_ Dracula's words echoed back to her again. Had her life before been so awful that no amount of kindness could bleed the poison from her heart? _I told her that I hoped we could be friends. And yet no matter how hard I try, nothing gets through to her._

What would she do when her visit ended? Would she go back to her isolated existence at Poenari? Given her disposition and temper, Lisa couldn't imagine her doing anything else. And…she paused in her train of thought. Yes…that is was Seras Victoria Draculina does. She lashes out. She shies away.

_But she never instigates._

"If humankind has been so terrible to you, then why didn't you kill the Belmonts at Oltenița?" Lisa asked. "Anne Belmont was right, you had plenty of opportunity."

Seras snapped her pale, blind eyes toward her. "I told you before, they have their uses."

Lisa swallowed, her heart tight in her chest. "Is that what you tell yourself?"

"What does that mean?"

"You live near them. You know their names. You even seem to have something of an understanding between yourself and Lady Integra." Then their conversation in the archives yesterday—had it really been only yesterday?—came back to her. "And you told me yourself that you prefer to hunt the wicked rather than drink the blood of the innocent."

Her eyes narrowed. "I would hardly call that family innocent."

"But their children are!" Lisa pressed forward. "Wallachia is your territory in all but name, and you don't terrorize the people. Nor do you invade other lands even though you have the power and artillery to do so. Until you came to Castle Dracula, I had never heard of you before. How often do you leave Poenari?"

"You had better stop talking."

Lisa knew it was a senseless venture angering a vampire, especially one who disliked her as much as Seras did, but by some force of courage or stupidity, she pressed forward still, "I think you hate violence and that you are kinder than you know, and you hide behind your mask of cruelty because that's what is expected of a beast in human skin."

Again Seras was silent, but Lisa knew from her wide eyes and clenched teeth that she'd touched a nerve.

"Was it even your choice to become a vampire? Dracula told me you were already dying when he turned you, so did you truly—"

"_Enough!_" Seras snarled and lunged forward, the vibrant red of her eyes returning like blood filling her irises. Lisa jerked back at the vampiress's sudden movement, but it seemed her only intention was to scare her into silence. Her fangs bared in rage and her cheeks still stained with blood, Seras regarded her with a hateful stare. "Do not presume to understand. You can't understand."

"Seras—"

"Silence!" She rose to her feet, angrily brushing snow from her dress, and then she was stalking away across the snow. As Lisa hurried after, she saw her shoulders were hunched and her arms were crossed in front of her slender torso, her hands holding her elbows in a tight grip.

-0-0-0-

Author's Notes: _Draugr_/pl. _draugar_: An ancient Norse undead monster similar to a vampire.

While it's not required to use _everyone_ in merging two fandoms, I really wanted to include Integra in some form. The problem was placing her. I toyed with the idea she was a forge master or a mage or some form of official in the Castlevania universe, but none of those seemed to suit the Hellsing vampire hunter. The idea she was a Belmont was discarded almost immediately. Originally, the idea was she was one of the daughters or a cousin who died in the purge, but no matter how I spun it in my head, I could not see Integra, who survived her uncle's attempt to murder her, being killed at the hands of a mob. She's a survivor character, just like Seras. And the idea she survived that night the same as Trevor interfered with the canon too much. (When a series establishes a character as a 'last descendant or 'last of their species' or whatever, that series had better mean it. Unless the plot involves said character looking for lost family members or other members of their species, then I don't want to hear about some miraculous deus ex machina survival of someone else. That's a stupid trope.)

Then it occurred to me, twenty-two year old Integra with everything to gain and honor to uphold would survive, but fifty-two year old Integra who's lived her life and would protect her family or die trying fit perfectly. So for the purposes of this crossover, Integra would be Trevor's grandmother. Make that of what you will.

I own neither of these series.


	8. Mercy

Author's Notes: I own neither of these series.

-0-0-0-

Chapter 8: Mercy

It was long after midnight by the time they returned to Castle Dracula and found its master waiting for them, his tall, imposing silhouette framed against the open portal. As they approached, Lisa couldn't be sure if he smelled the blood on Seras' dress or if he saw the stains she hadn't bothered to clean from her face, but the alarm in his eyes was evident enough. He said no words and swept down the stairs to loom over his daughter. Pale hands caught up her white countenance and he peered down at her with an unreadable expression. As Lisa looked on, a succession of unspoken words seemed to pass between the two vampires. A gust of chill wind rattled the skeletons on their spikes, but her mentor's eyes never left Seras, not until she lowered her gaze and ran passed him inside.

They watched the tattered hem of her dress disappear in silence, then Dracula turned his attention to her. "Are you hurt?"

Lisa shook her head as he closed the distance between them and took her hands in his, easily engulfing her fingers in his grip. An uneasy shudder worked its way through her spine, but she forced the instinctive 'prey' fear away and tried to explain what had occurred on the road. Only no words came. All she could manage was a helpless opening and closing of her mouth whilst she stared at her toes like a lost child.

"I had hoped you would never have to witness Seras' brutality in combat," Dracula's voice came in a long sigh as he pulled away and, tucking one of her frozen hands into the crook of his elbow, turned back to the castle. "It seems I over estimated Godbrand's powers of restraint. It was Godbrand, wasn't it?"

"That's what she called him," Lisa said as she raised her eyes.

"It must have been a frightful experience. Vampires at odds is a terrible sight, but when those vampires are Seras and Godbrand, well…the cruelty of the _Berserker Draugr_ and my daughter's determination make for a devastating clash of wills."

"Like fire and gunpowder," she murmured.

"Ah. So Seras showed you were weapon of choice," Dracula said as he led her inside. A touch of affectionate humor had replaced the gravity in his tone again. "Her arquebus is an unreliable pet project she likes to tinker with, and with mixed results. Destructive for sure, but subtle no."

Once inside the grand entrance hall, Lisa realized she was still wearing Seras' warm cloak over her ragged one and quickly removed it. Even during the long trek home, she hadn't even noticed it, though it must have trailed heavily in the snowy road behind her. Had she been so distracted?

"Were you cold?"

"Only when we stopped so Seras could heal herself," Lisa lied. "She didn't ask for her cloak back."

"No, she wouldn't have." Dracula's brow furrowed as he looked her over. "I do wish you would allow me to at least provide you with proper winter garments. It would not do if you were to be afflicted with a chill while you are out of doors at this time of year."

"And I have told you that I manage," Lisa answered stubbornly and removed her own threadbare cloak. "Will Seras be all right?"

"She'll be fine."

"Will she?" she repeated more firmly and Dracula turned to her in surprise. "She was badly hurt in the fight, sir. He took her _eyes!_" Seras' agonized scream echoed back to her and a tremor rushed down Lisa's spine as everything about that night came flooding back: Seras' thin-veiled resentment, her pale and unseeing eyes, Godbrand's attack, the strange and terrible weapon called a firearm, even that terrifying dash to Bucharest on the back of Seras' wolf form—oh, God, had that only been just this evening? At dusk when the sun had set? Lisa covered her mouth and swayed on her feet.

She was not a faint of heart woman. No one could tell her she was faint of heart. She'd survived a fire that had broken out at an inn she'd once roomed at. She'd spent an entire night in the branches of a tree to avoid wolves prowling around the roots. When she first refused the advances of her former mistress's lord husband, he'd laughed and thought her coy. When she refused the fourth time, he'd beaten her. Violence was not a stranger to her, nor anger or hatred.

But everything that had happened tonight, she thought, all of it stacked on top of each other was just too much.

Dracula caught her arm and steadied her. "Come," he said. "You both have had a trying evening." He then led her down into the castle scullery where, at one point, the staff had prepared meals for the lord of the estate. Now it only served as the simple kitchen of a very reduced household. Rather than take her meals in the daunting gloom and silence of the grand dining hall, Lisa preferred to eat here at the small kitchen table. And, in the weeks following her arrival, her mentor had begun to sit with her and they would discuss lessons over breakfast.

Now, however, Dracula sat her down in one of the wooden chairs and took a glass from the cabinet, filling it a small part of the way with burning wine. This he set before her without a word and Lisa hesitantly took a moderate sip. True to its name, the amber fluid burned her throat on the way down and she gasped and took a steady, calming breath. "Thank you."

He nodded, his eyes solemn. "Are you certain you are not hurt?"

"I'm not." She brushed her hand against her eye. "He barely took notice of me and Seras—I'm sorry, sir. I don't mean to weep."

"Weeping is an essential component of human biology. Your Lord would not have created you with tear ducts had he not intended for you to use them," Dracula said as he sat too down and took her hand in his. "Now…tell me what happened."

So Lisa explained the events of their journey, beginning from the very moment they set out for the Capital to where Godbrand had met them on the road. Dracula asked her what his grievance was, and when she explained it was the happenings at Oltenița, he nodded again as though he'd expected as much. He curled his lip in fury when she told him how Seras' vision had been so brutally stolen and his hand that rested on the table clenched into a fist. Then Lisa spoke of the end of the struggle and he looked at her in surprise."

"It was _you_ who scared him off?"

"No, I wouldn't say that." Lisa took another sip of the burning wine. "I just picked up Seras' arquebus and shouted that I'd contacted you and that you were coming to our aid."

"Even so, it was a good strategy, however spontaneous. And Godbrand fled after this?"

"Yes. Afterward, we waited for Seras' eyes to heal, and then…"

"Then?"

Lisa sighed. "I fear I may have said some words that upset her."

"What sort of words?"

"We…disagreed on certain matters regarding human nature and…well, I realized something about her." She paused to drink, then said quietly, as though Seras were just on the other side of the scullery door. "She's…Seras is a soft child, isn't she."

Dracula said nothing, only turned away and closed his eyes.

"Why did you make her a vampire?" Lisa asked. "You told me she was dying and you gave her the choice, but why?"

He looked at her in what she could only describe as surprise. "You would have left her for dead?"

"Don't avoid the question. I only meant that it does not sound like you. Nor does it even sound like the Dracula of myth for that matter." The Dracula in the stories used to frighten children was ruthless and possessed a blackened heart if he had one at all. Yet from her first night within these walls, she found the Dracula of fact was educated, even compassionate at times, but when it came to the general human populace, they were viewed with a large degree of apathy give or take a sense of loathing. "Was she like me? Did she ask to learn from you?"

"No." Dracula's answer was immediate and left no room for doubt. "Until the night we met, I had never seen Seras before in my life. No, Lisa, I turned Seras…because I was the one who killed her."

An icy pit formed in Lisa's stomach as she stared at the glass in her hands. "Y-You said you were hunting—"

"The vampire priest I had set out to eliminate that night…by the time I found him, the entire village of Cașcaval had been drained of blood until there was only Seras, and she was being pursued. I have told you as much before." Her mentor leaned forward in his chair, glaring into the darkness of the scullery. "My intended prey caught her, and out of fear and desperation, he used Seras as a living shield, pinning his hopes of survival on the chance that _maybe_ I would be merciful and not needlessly harm a human woman. He was wrong. She was nothing to me. Just another human. So when I ripped out his heart, I pierced hers to do it. The only mercy I intended was to finish her quickly."

"But?" Lisa's hands clenched around the now empty glass.

But it was a long time before Dracula spoke again. As she watched, Lisa could see the thoughts behind his eyes, filing into place and reshuffling over and over as he found the words to explain his sins. Nineteen years old, Seras had guessed. A young woman who'd already lived a harsh life, and to meet such a violent end….

"Seras reminded me of…" He paused. "Of my lost Elizabetha. Another life cut short before its time, and as the Cașcaval priest had gambled, a small part of me _did_ pity the poor child whose life I'd taken. I offered Seras immortality, and she took it, and in time, I came to see her as the daughter my late wife and I never had."

Lisa was silent. She'd known her mentor had been human once, and during that time, he'd had a human wife he'd loved very much. She known of Elizabetha since she first asked about her portrait, which hung in the alchemy lab and watched her everyday lessons and experiments. In fits of frustration, Lisa had often vented by asking the painting of the placid, doe-eyed lady advice or otherwise held brief conversation, something that had caused her no end of embarrassment when Dracula caught her at it one day. To think Seras had invoked such a feeling in the vampire king that he virtually saw her as his blood kin.

"Seras came into her own some months after she was turned. In the battle against Alexander the Mad Belmont in Bucharest."

"The Mad Belmont?"

Dracula nodded. "In his obsession to hunt and slay our kin, Alexander Belmont managed to weave together an impenetrable network of sorcery to keep himself alive and strong even through the most grievous of injuries. A human with the body of an immortal." His fangs bared in disgust. "He was so far gone that his own lineage disavowed and exiled him from their ancestral home, his very name stricken from the records as though he'd never been. Humans are always forgetting things when it's convenient."

"Did Seras kill him?"

"We both did. And she has been indispensable to me ever since." Dracula said. "She has defended our lands well, served as the vanguard of the borders, secured and cultivated alliances with our neighbors, and more than I deserve given the outset of our history."

"She told me she likes to use the Belmonts for her own devices."

"She likes to say that, and it's true. There have been many rogue vampires and other demons in Wallachia that we haven't had to lift a finger to exterminate. What Seras doesn't say is the Belmonts entertain her." He smiled. "She's watched the drama, comedy, and tragedy of their lives for a century. She can tell you how many children have been born in that house, which ones didn't survive infancy, the nature of the ones who did survive. As I said, I indulge her whims, whatever they may be."

-0-0-0-

In her lonely chamber, hunched over a washbasin, Seras was weeping.


	9. Haemolacria

Chapter 9: Haemolacria

When Seras brought down the Mad Belmont, she'd forever carved her name in the annals of her kind. Though less than a century old, and newly undead, she then stood shoulder to shoulder with her mighty father. With the Belmont's death, she'd marked herself as a force to be reckoned with, both for the vampires and for the surviving vampire hunters. No longer was she dismissed as a weak child by the Generals, and some of them even began to seek her out. Her father was the vampire king, among the oldest and strongest of their race, and like any king, everyone wished to curry favor with him. What better way than to gain Dracula's ear than to befriend the beloved fledgling who already had it?

She had no love for humans nor did she love the vampires. Repulsed by their avarice and endless malevolence, Seras chose to remain by her sire's side and become both his sword and his shield.

With a strength that rivaled vampires far older than herself, she eliminated his enemies without hesitation and strove to keep his allies in line as best she could. The Generals chafed under her blood and shadow authority, but she rarely instigated hostilities among them. When a rival shogunate threatened Cho-hime's rule in Japan, Seras went to her aid willingly and therein fostered the Eastern princess's loyalties. Once, even Godbrand begrudgingly accepted her assistance in dealing with another _draugr_ chieftain who'd made advances into his territory. His equally begrudging thanks served to strengthen his alliance with Dracula. Through and through, Seras had proved herself to be Dracula's creature and no one else's. She never mistook her peers' ambition for love. Never allowed herself to look weak before the Generals. She was their unquestioned commander, second only to the king himself.

It was quite the change from the starving girl who died in Cașcaval.

And yet she could never be as withdrawn from humanity as she'd liked.

Deny it as she would, she'd felt sorry for Father Alexander Belmont when she and her father killed him, though he was far less of a human than she was. Then and now. It was a desperate battle. Even together with her father, it had taken every last ounce of their strength to destroy their adversary, even when his hands were broken, even when his limbs clung to his body by tendons and bits of gristle, even when something ruptured within him and he was vomiting blood into the streets of Bucharest. She watched in despair as Alexander made his final stand, sacrificing the very last of his humanity with the Nail of Helena, an act that would have made his ancestor Leon weep.

He gave up everything for their defeat, not because killing them would bring him back into his family's good graces but because it was God's will that he cleanse Wallachia of the demon scourge. And still, it was he who lay broken, his heart ripped out by Dracula and that sacred and cursed artifact of Rome extracted. Seras remembered sitting with him as he lay dying, her and her sire. They listened to the final words of the Mad Belmont. He spoke, strangely, of his brothers who'd exiled him. He spoke of their children whom he'd loved as though they were his own. He said he could hear them playing and that he should go to them.

And he told her demons did not weep.

He told her to laugh.

In the end, she went to the house the Mad Belmont had spoken of, the manor house between Argeș and Poenari Castle. When his brother, who may have been called Lionel or Leon or whichever ancestor whose name he shared, answered the door, he saw her standing in the forecourt of that great house. "Alexander Belmont, the Mad Priest of your lineage, is no more," she told him. "Dead by my hand and that of my father, Vlad Dracula Țepeș."

In truth, she had come to end their line forever. She'd seen the wrath and destruction Alexander had wrought in the Captial. The Belmonts could not be allowed to exist. Lionel the hunter drew his blade, and Seras spread her crimson wings and would have charged forward and sank her fangs into his throat…

…had Lionel's young daughter not come running around the corner of the estate, only to freeze at the sight of them. Poor thing couldn't have been much older than nine, her blue eyes wide with fear, her careless game interrupted by the sudden and cold reality that monsters did exist. Seras stared at her. Lionel remained frozen, afraid to make a sudden movement and incite her to attack his child. The girl stared back at Seras.

And she remembered the thieves in her family's house.

The blood on the walls.

Her parents' bodies.

No blood was spilled that day before the Belmont estate, human or otherwise. Instead, Seras let her mouth break into a wide grin before she lowered herself into a deep curtsey and leapt away, soaring across the treetops. As though fired from a bow drawn taut, as Lionel was to chronicle in his journals. From that day forth, the Belmont histories and bestiaries told of a Draculean fledgling, the Red Death of Wallachia. Although…it would be another seventy years or so before the family actually knew her name. Not until Integra Belmont was polite enough to ask before making the first of many attempts on her life.

Seras was jarred from her reverie by a knock on her bedchamber door and she lifted her head from her pillows. After an interval of silence, the knock came again, followed by the stern voice of her sire. "Seras, are you there?"

"Yes, sir." She sat up and reached for the blue shawl at the foot of her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Come in."

The tarnished silver handle twisted and the door creaked inward to admit Dracula, grim-faced as he stepped across the carpet. Seras did not meet his eyes and instead went to the window to draw aside the heavy drapes and let in the moonlight. "I did warn you," the vampire king said. "That you were underestimated in Oltenița. The beating you took is no less than the punishment you deserve."

"I know."

Dracula scowled as he pulled up the chair from her writing desk and sank into it, hand to his temple. "To think I would ever owe Godbrand some gratitude for checking your arrogance. You're not as indestructable as you think, Daughter."

"Neither are you," Seras growled and sat down on the foot of her bed to face him. "Did you come up here just to scold me? It was a miscalculation, sir. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't." The old vampire released an irritated sigh and dropped his hand. "But no, my actual intentions were to thank you."

"Excuse me?"

"Whether it was your intention or not, you did protect Lisa from Godbrand last night. I will not forget that."

At the mention of the human woman, Seras' mood blackened further. Since their return to Castle Dracula, she had offered her master's pupil little and less thought. It made her uneasy to know how easily Lisa had understood her. How she'd pieced together her motives and character based on the brief fragments Seras had guardedly shared of herself. Without any effort, Lisa had seemed to effortlessly peer right into the core of her and see her most hidden self.

How was it a human could be that clever and comprehensive?

She took a breath, let it out in a sigh, and then asked, "Does she really mean that much to you, sir?"

"Do _you_ dislike her that much, Seras?"

"She annoys me."

Dracula raised an eyebrow and almost seemed to smile at her. "The other night you were telling me she troubled you. Am I to take this as an improvement?"

Seras threw her hands up. "Ever since I met the skinny, little nit, I have lashed out at her with nettles and thorns in my tongue and yet she sticks to my skirts like a damned burr. It's irritating, sir, how she sits there and endures my abuse. And for what? I've been a veritable shrew."

"She wished to befriend you." This time, her master did smile. "She's knows you are my kin and fledgling, and that our bond wasn't one she wished to come between. Nor do I wish for there to be war between the two of you."

She studied the sincerity in his eyes and thought of the Cașcaval priest holding her in his grasp and putting her forward as his hostage. She recalled the disdain in Dracula's face and knew even before his cold hand pierced her ribcage and heart that her sorry life was forfeit. If she closed her eyes, she could just recall the feeling of the blood-soaked grass beneath her, the full moon, and the vampire of legend and nightmare kneeling beside her and offering her a choice. Apathetic of course. At the time, she thought it was a whim that saved her. It was only later, decades later, that he'd confided he saw something of poor, long-lost Elizabetha in her. _"How so, sir?"_ she had asked him. Because she was not dead yet, or even unconcious. The shock of being impaled in such a way should have rendered her senseless as she bled out into the soil. And yet she was awake and alert as she lay dying. That sort of will was only comparable to Elizabetha, hanging onto life long after the physicians said her illness would take her.

"You're not the same as you used to be," Seras murmured. "A hundred years ago, Lisa would have joined the skeletons outside without question."

"You know I gave that up." The old vampire reached for her and brushed a pale hand as cold as porcelain against her cheek, and Seras leaned into it with a small sigh. "The years have been long, Daughter," he said. "And they feel heavier with every day gone. My memories feel like a fortress gone to ruin, its walls crumbling with every word I've spoken and wood rotting with every deed I've committed. My soul feels like a winter that will never end, that continues on in endless night with no moon and no hope.

"When Lisa smiles, day breaks and the sun finally manages to cast light upon those ruins. I feel her laughter like the spring come in wake of the long winter. My heart remembers what it was to live, blood coursing through my veins with every soft whisper, every battle cry, every prayer, every song. Her joy is mine. Her successes and failures are mine. Her sadness, her determination, I want to see it all and more, Seras. If she'll have me, I want to love her until the stars bleed from the heavens."

By now he had leaned forward and taken her hands in his, and Seras could only watch.

"Try, Seras. For me."

-0-0-0-

As Lisa was leafing through the new anatomy tome she'd acquired in Bucharest, she was suddenly aware of one of the vampires standing behind her. The air seemed to change when they were around, grow somehow cold and forbidding and peaceful all at once, like the air of a graveyard. "Good evening, Seras." She twisted around in her chair to smile at the startled vampiress. "Are you feeling better?"

Seras cocked her head to the side and frowned. "How did you know I was the one who'd come in?"

"Your father usually announces himself," Lisa said as Seras came forward to peer at her workbench, and she was suddenly very self-conscious of the lamentable mess of papers scattered across its surface amid the gas burner, chemistry glassware, and the occasional jar of alchemical compounds turned temporary paperweight. She expected a snide comment or remark about her sloppiness or the dangers of an untidy workspace, but Seras merely glanced everything over, peeled some document Lisa had been looking for out from under a jar of saltpeter, before she flicked one of her sharp fingernails against an empty beaker.

"Do you never rest, woman?"

Lisa crossed her arms and muttered sheepishly. "Not as often as I should if I'm honest. There's so much for me to learn."

"Indeed." Seras picked up a bottle sealed with wax, swirled the fluid inside around a little, then looked at her in askance.

"Uh, distilled water." Lisa said. "For experiments and drinking."

"Ah." Seras nodded and set it down. "What will you do…when you finish your studies? Or will you never be finished?"

"I suppose…." Lisa mused as she ran her gaze across the laboratory with its rows of more books than she had ever seen in her life and the telescope that let her view worlds she'd never dreamed possible and all the equipment and instruments she'd spent weeks learning to use as well as all the ones she hadn't yet touched. "I suppose I may stay and continue to learn until Dracula requests I leave. There is so much knowledge here, Seras. I doubt any mortal could learn it all in their lifetime."

Seras gave a thoughtful nod and looked up toward the observatory. "Why not become immortal then?"

"What?"

"You seek the knowledge of the immortals. You concede that it is more than a human could ever hope to learn in the fifty or sixty or so years allotted to them." She looked at her. "So if Dracula offered you immortality, would you take it?"

The question startled Lisa and she turned back to her worktable, making a show of organizing her papers, bookmarking passages and closing the tomes, and turning off the gas burner. "I…that is…death is a part of life. Birth, a long and healthy life, dying, it's all part of a natural cycle, Seras."

"Am I unnatural then?"

"No!" Lisa saw Seras flinch as she turned to her, holding her hands up. "No, God, no, I didn't mean it that way! I just think you made a difficult choice is all. Giving up something as important as the ability to age and die, that is."

"A coward's choice."

"No, I wouldn't say—" Lisa was cut off as Seras sharply raised her hand.

The vampiress shook her head and closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, Lisa was astonished to find them a startling shade of blue. Not sky blue but much deeper, like the sapphire ring her former mistress had worn on her middle finger. The one she'd been accused of stealing so long ago. "I often ask myself," Seras said. "When Seras the peasant girl died a pointless death atop a lonely hill in Cașcaval under the light of the full moon, did she accept the curse of immortality because she had the will to live? Or was I just afraid to die? And was becoming this creature worth it in the end?"

"Do you think it was a coward's choice?"

Seras shrugged.

"Because from where I stand, had you died that night, then you and I would have never met." She reached for the girl's hand, and Seras did not pull away. "And I am genuinely glad we did."

"Why? I've been awful to you."

"You have." Lisa couldn't argue that. She squeezed her fingers. "But I forgive you."

As the vampire lady's brow creased in a frown, her eyes returned to their normal crimson hue and she blinked once or twice as though trying to clear her vision. "There's no stopping you, is there?"

This time, Lisa was the one who shrugged and pulled away. "In stubbornness, Seras, I believe we are evenly matched."

"I suppose so."

"Can we have peace between us then?" At her silence, Lisa continued. "I know you've been hurt, Seras. I know humans have never been kind to you. But if you let me, I can be your friend."

Something seemed to shift in Seras then. Lisa saw it behind her eyes as she looked at her. She didn't blink or move or even make the slightest sound. Yet Lisa saw it all the same. A tension that almost seemed to slip from her shoulders. Seras' pale lips parted, closed, and then she gave a brief nod. "Very well. I will…tolerate you. For now. Just until—ow!" she cried out in pain as Lisa threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around her thin torso. Every muscle protecting her ribs went rigid at the contact, but Lisa didn't let go, resting her chin on the girl's shoulder and her hand on her back.

"I'll take it, Seras," she said gently.

Seras took an uneasy breath and tentatively returned her embrace. "…good. Good."

-0-0-0-

Author's Notes: Here's the Chapter 9 installment, and I'm here to say Honey and Vinegar should be wrapping up very soon with one more chapter and an epilogue. That said, there is a sequel in the works.

I do not own either of these series.


	10. Leavetaking

Chapter 10: Leavetaking

The hour Seras left Castle Dracula for a stroll in the dark, the moon was nearly full. It rose pale and bright behind the silhouette turrets and cast long shadows across the silver glass snow. Somewhere in the night, a screech owl cried out and the vampiress twisted her head to follow the sound, eyes wide and alert as a crisp breeze swept across the plain. Crystals of ice skitter past her boots and she breathed in the winter air. It was another lovely evening, she thought. Cloudless, cold, and a castle in the distance. Like something out of a fairytale where princesses did not starve in wintertide famines and felt nothing of the cold.

The owl called out again, and this time, Seras heard the far off songs of the wolf pack answer, eerie in the silence. She sighed, and no clouds of warm air formed at her lips, though she tightened her sable-lined cloak around her shoulders.

"Greetings, my Lady Seras!"

The vampiress paused, startled.

Undeterred, the unforseen voice continued, filled with dark, bemused laughter, "You left your household in quite an uproar, Lady Seras Victoria. Whatever _were_ you thinking up and abandoning us lost children like that? And without even a note, too; you're heartless!"

At that, Seras found her voice again, laughing through closed lips and turned on her heel to face her sudden visitor. "Well, I _was_ trying to get away from you for a spell. It seemes I did not go quite far enough."

"What an adorable sentiment! Travel all the way to the Mediterranean or Edo or even across the mighty western ocean and I'll _always_ find you, Seras! You know I am everywhere and nowhere."

She fixed her page with an admonishing smile. "Ah, Schrödinger. How are you?"

"Mm. Well." The werecat pulled his slim shoulders into an exaggerated shrug, his black ears twitching in his blond hair. "Thank you for asking, _meine Dame_."

"Is it total anarchy back home then?"

In answer, Schrödinger sidled close to her, pulling part of her cloak around his shoulders and snuggling close in a casual familiarity she allowed only to him, and only because his cat-like persistence never permitted refusal. "No fires yet, although Zorin is pretty close to mutiny. And you, of course, know what the Valentines are like. Not to mention van Winkle and Alhambre follow where they are led, so Walter thinks it might be best if you would return posthaste and restore some order before matters get out of hand."

"Of course," Seras sighed.

"You left us so suddenly." Schrödinger fixed her with a pair of large, pleading eyes. "We'll be good, _meine Dame_. I promise we'll all be well-behaved, good, little vampires from now on."

"Now you are just mocking me, _mein Liebling_," Seras nuzzled his hair. "Zorin probably attempted a hostile _coup_ the minute poor van Winkle found that stupid pillow I stuffed under my bedclothes."

The werecat giggled and hugged her tightly. "Well, _I _can't fault you for wanting to visit your dear father. It's so rare that you do. How is the old man these days?"

"In fair health I imagine." Seras absently leaned her cheek against his head. "He's the same as he's been these past few years. Quiet, reclusive. Weary."

"But he has a companion now?"

"You've seen her?"

She felt his head nod. "Of course. Everywhere and nowhere. I knew about the _Dame_ Lisa long before you left us at Poenari."

"Why did you say nothing? Why did you not warn me of her?"

In answer, the werecat's arms tightened around her torso where he ran his hands along the sable fur lining of her cloak. "You're so soft, m'lady. Do you think the _Berserker Draugr_ remembers that?"

Seras shoved him away in disgust and strode away across the snow. "For sure, he received a damn good reminder of how sharp my fangs are. Did Godbrand show himself at Poenari?"

"Yes," Schrödinger grinned carelessly as he skipped along beside her. "But our good Captain ran him off without too much trouble."

Seras smiled at that. The nameless werewolf had once been a warrior in Godbrand's service before he'd defected to her own household some seventy or eighty years ago, and it pleased her to know that, for all his silence, he had no qualms about his long ago change in allegiance. "I imagine that infuriated Zorin some. Being deprived of a good fight and all."

"You shouldn't provoke her, Seras," the werecat said quietly over the crunching of their boots. "She's not a vampire one crosses lightly."

"Neither am I," she retorted, waving her hand in dismissal. "Ugh, but you're right. What do you think would please her?"

"An excursion to the north to put Godbrand back in his place?"

"Perhaps." Seras yawned. "I'll put the idea to her when I return to Poenari."

"So you're coming back soon?"

Seras halted and the werecat cartwheeled to a stop next to her. Was it time to go home? She _had_ been away for a few nights now, and it seemed there would be trouble if she stayed away much longer. In the strictest sense, she'd already accomplished what she'd set out to do: she'd visited her master and made her reports of the countryside. Soon, she would need to attend to the Ottomans at the southern border awaiting winter's end and keep her eyes open for rogues of her kind aiming to use the human chaos for their own designs. At some point, she needed to head west and take the measure of the new—was Styria a duchy? An earldom? Whatever; she intended to take the measure of that territory's new mistress and determine whether this Carmilla would prove hostile or conformable to her master's overlordship.

And, of course, Seras would sooner or later have to make some form of reparation or other to appease Godbrand so their alliance with the _draugar_ wouldn't completely crumble. Catch more flies with honey than vinegar and all that rot. She sighed. So much for sending Zorin north and out of trouble.

But was all finished with Castle Dracula?

Was there anything more to be said to her father? To the Lady Lisa? It occurred to Seras that she would need to take the human woman into account more often should Dracula proceed with his intention to marry her. _Without_ turning her. God, a vampire marrying a human…had such a thing ever been done before? Walter would know, but of course if she asked him, then he would want to know why such an idea had come to her.

And then she would have to explain Lisa.

The uproar that would bring forth in her castle….

A breath of air left her lifeless lungs. A rueful smile crossed her face. Her eyes closed. "Tonight. I will leave tonight."

"Best hurry then, Draculina," Schrödinger's voice echoed as he was gone in the blink of an eye and snowflakes began to drift lazily upon the world. "The sun rises soon."

…

When Seras returned inside, she found her master and Lisa in the midst of a lesson, seated across from each other in one of the library's many alcoves with a slew of open tomes and notebooks, as well as a scattering of pens, inkwells, random foodstuffs, and the occasional anatomy model spread before them.

"…so you see," her father was saying as she came within earshot, oblivious to her presence. "In this way, nutrients derived from the food humans eat, as well as properly prepared medicines, are absorbed into the bloodstream and carried throughout the body. At the same time, it serves to remove the waste products such as carbon dioxide via respiration in the lungs and urea, salts, and water through the kidneys. Understand?"

Seras watched Lisa's head bob up and down in an eager nod. "So the practice of bloodletting does in fact do more harm than I originally thought."

"Indeed. It is not for nothing it is sometimes referred to as lifeblood."

"Blood," Seras broke in and the pair looked up from their books. "Is the currency of the soul, the very vehicle of life itself, not to mention the binding contract between vampire and fledgling."

Dracula rose from his chair and held out his hand in a sweeping gesture of welcome. "Ah, my dear, so good of you to join us. We were just examining the finer points of the circulatory apparatus."

"So I see." Reaching out, the vampiress plucked a diagram from the table and found herself contemplating side by side comparisons of red and white blood cells and platelets. Irrelevant to herself, of course, as neither she nor Dracula had a working heartbeat, nor need for oxygen, or regulation of body temperature. "A complex system to be sure."

"I think it's rather elegant," Lisa countered, tracing her finger along the run of a vein in another illustration.

Seras shrugged and set down the page. "I've decided to return to Poenari tonight. Right now, in fact."

"So soon?" Lisa raised her head in surprise. "But it's nearly dawn now. You'll never make it to Argeș before the sun rises, nevermind Poenari. It'll burn you."

"Nonsense. The sun does not concern me in the least." Seras smirked. "Besides, I already gave my word I leave tonight."

Lisa opened her mouth to speak again, but Dracula quieted her with a gentle touch to her shoulder. "Lisa, there is a basket for Seras down in the scullery. Would you mind fetching it for me since she is so inclined to leave us this evening?"

"But…" Lisa glanced at Seras, back at her mentor, then with a polite nod, she scurried off and the tattered hem of her skirt soon disappeared through the doorway into the corridor.

Seras rounded on her master once she had gone. "She needs better clothes, sir. _Warmer_ clothes. Why have you neglected her so?"

Dracula's eyes flashed at her accusatory tone and he looked away as he answered, "I have tried, Daughter. Many times. Yet she refuses my aid."

_Yes, she said as much,_ Seras thought, crossing her arms. "Then you must persist further. _We_ may not feel the cold, but Wallachian winters are oft brutal, especially up here in the mountains." Although Lisa had gone, Seras leaned in close and whispered softly. "She has been pursued before, Master, make no mistake."

The look in Dracula's eyes hardened to an icy stare.

"Pursued by wealthy and powerful men who, unlike yourself, had less than honorable intentions."

The vampire king clenched his hand, scoring four parallel claw marks into the table and ripping the corner of one of his diagrams. "Are you implying," he asked in a cold fury. "That a simple and decent gift of warm clothing is construed as an invitation to become a concubine? Have you no shame, Seras, thinking so low of me?"

"I imply no such thing," Seras retorted. "I am merely pointing out she is cautious. She was a servant once upon a time, and it would surprise me not if, in her youthful naïvety, the poor, pretty, little nit made the mistake of accepting some lord's gift without understanding what it meant."

Dracula said nothing, but she could see the conflicted thoughts behind his eyes. He was no fool; surely, he had noticed Lisa's innate compassion as much as he had her aloof nature. How she equally respected him and maintained a careful balance of friendship and formality as though…as though she feared what he could do. As others had perhaps done.

Seras watched her sire's broad shoulders sink with a bleak sigh, and he seemed to crumple in on himself as he sat down again, hand to his brow. "I see your point. What must I do?"

"Persist. Be clear it is merely a kindness and nothing more." Seras sidled up to him and hooked her arm through his. "Or, if she refuses to be supported still, you could make an offer of marriage just for that sake alone. She would have no fear of shame if she was safely married. Can you imagine?" She lowered her voice as deep as she could and, imitating him, said, "Woman, marry me so I may clothe you properly."

Dracula chuckled at her antics.

"Funny, in my experience, that's the opposite of what happens in—"

"Seras!" He pulled his arm away from her and rested his hand in her blonde hair. "What am I to do with you, you harridan?"

The young lady shrugged impertinently and leaned up to kiss his cold cheek. "It could work, Master. "

"It could." He sighed again. "Does this mean you approve, my dear?"

"I give you my full blessing." Seras assured him. "If you love her, of course. Make that clear to her, too. She may not agree to marry you otherwise.

"Without a doubt." She felt his smile against her temple and he combed his fingers affectionately through her hair.

Thus they remained until Lisa returned to the library, burdened by the large basket Dracula had spoken of and staggering a little under its weight. "What is this?" Seras asked, peering under the lid incredulously. Inside, she saw a multitude of preserved fruits and meat, as well as jars of spices and a few bottles of wine carefully sealed with wax, among other items from the larder. "Are we to have a picnic, Lisa?"

"When you arrived," Dracula said. "I set aside some various foodstuffs for you and your household's enjoyment. I seem to recall Walter in particular is fond of Oriental tea."

"You're too kind," Seras said as she took the basket from Lisa.

"Have you your firearm?" Lisa asked.

Seras thought about where she'd left it, propped against the wall of her bedchamber. "No, but I have others. I can retrieve it another time."

The young woman nodded and a smile crept across her lips. "By the by, Seras, you say gunpowder is a terrible weapon devised by mankind."

"Yes?" She frowned. Everyone knew that.

"But did you know the Chinese call it _huo yao_?"

"What of it?"

Lisa's smile widened. "_Huo yao_ means 'flaming medicine.' It used to be a medicine for treating skin diseases."

"There's always a silver line with you, isn't there." Seras looked back and forth between the two of them. Lisa, young and full of life. Her master, centuries old and weighted down by it. No longer ambitious and cruel, just weary of it all. Seras lowered her eyes. _Till the stars bleed from the heavens, huh? _She would be good for him, if he was able to inspire Lisa to love him. Of that, Seras had no doubt.

They walked in silence from the lab and Seras again took in the brighter and cleaner corridor. The sconces and the suits of armor free of dust and cobwebs. The feeling of life within the tomb. She smiled.

"I hope we will meet again, Seras," Lisa said when they reached the portal and Seras pulled it open. "Maybe we could go to Bucharest again."

"Or Targoviste or Brăila. Have you ever seen the Black Sea? Or the ocean?"

The woman shook her head and Seras could see her eyes shining at the prospect. To have spent so much time as twenty years on this earth and yet never having seen the sea. "We'll have to rectify that."

"How will you get home?" Lisa asked. "Will you become a wolf and run?"

Dracula bit back a laugh. A true and genuine laugh, not contrived in out of deception or annoyance.

"And traverse all those peaks in between? No, I think not." Seras shook her head, and then, in a single fluid motion, she swept her fine, fur-lined cloak from her neck and draped it suddenly over Lisa's thin shoulders. The woman gave a quiet gasp, her eyes wide as the vampire lady laughed into her startled face. "My gift to you. Sister." And then, basket in hand, she was running.

She sprinted down the snowy path, eyes forward, faster and faster until she reached the very end of the skeletons, wherein her crimson wings unfurled and Seras threw herself into the sky. Undaunted by the rising sun, as so many of her kind were, she flew into the dawn, a red streak of light trailing after her like a comet.

Or a red arrow fired from a bow drawn taut.

From below, Dracula and Lisa watched her soar away until she was no longer to be seen and daylight ushered them back inside.

-0-0-0-

Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, and reviewed. It's been a delight working on this crossover, I hope you all enjoyed, and I hope to see you for the sequel: The Court of Intrigue, which will have more of Seras' relationship with her fellow Generals, more on her connection with the Belmonts, and just more of her usual badassery. Honey and Vinegar has one more installment to go in the form of an epilogue, which I aim to have up very soon. Take care all!

And again, I own neither of these series.


	11. Epilogue

Author's Notes: I own neither of these series.

-0-0-0-

Epilogue:

Summer was good to Wallachia this year.

A warm sun with frequent and gentle rains had nurtured the fields and orchards for a prosperous harvest, and the flocks had grown fat in the pastures. No storms had flooded the rivers this season nor did any form of pestilence infect the cities. No monsters came in the night to snatch away children and maidens, and the peasants gave thanks for it at church.

However, hunters from Gresit and all the surrounding villages had for months reported sightings of an impossibly large she-wolf loping through the mountains. No, it's true, they'd say over drinks with the farmers and village men. A great wolf, larger than a draft horse, with silver-white fur and dark red eyes. They'd seen her dashing along the Argeș River. Another had spotted her heading north toward Transylvania. Someone else claimed they'd sighted the creature by the old Belmont Estate, pawing at ashes and nosing gravestones. Villagers would whisper fearfully that the monstrous specter was surely a hellhound, a demonic familiar to the devil-worshiping lords, wandering about in search of her dead masters. Or mayhaps 'tis the ghost of the Lady Integra herself, a barmaid says, back to seek vengeance on those who burned her family. Was her fine hair not the same silver hue, even before age made it so? Hellhound, witch's familiar, ghost, demon, a servant of black mages—right we were to do away with the heretics, say these gossips. And may God protect us from vengeful beasts. Hear, hear.

Seras paused on the road and lifted her head to the ruined, once revered house, now eerie in its silence and shadows. For years, she'd always been able to hear the voices of the family, even from this far away. The adults chatting in various rooms throughout the manor, the clatter of kitchenware against the singing cook and his assistants, and the laughter of the children as they rushed about the halls. Now, the empty house felt lonely and wrong and unrecognizable in the summer light. Though it had only been a few years since the mob came, ivy and moss had already reclaimed the walls and the place no longer smelled of burnt timbers and scorched stone.

And the gravestones that had always been so well tended were now overgrown with weeds. No flowers for the dead.

How she despised this good summer. How dare the weather show itself in such a way the priests could interpret as God's approval for this slaughter? What sin did the children who saw their parents die commit?

The she-wolf heaved a sigh and turned her head as Adrian came tumbling out of the brush behind her, mud and leaves caught in what used to be pure white fur. Messy child. An admonishing snort left her, and she dragged her rough, pink tongue across the pup's head. _Your mother is not going to be pleased when I bring you back. With you or me._ As though hearing her thoughts, Adrian scampered between her forepaws and tumbled over himself, landing on his back in his human guise and giggling up at her.

Seras rolled her eyes as best she could with wolf eyes and stepped over him, making sure she gave the boy a good thump with her tail as she went.

"Seras!" Adrian cried in protest. She heard him climb back to his feet and scurry after her, only for his footsteps to stop again some paces later. "Wow, is that a ruined castle!"

_"__Oh, yes,"_ Seras turned about and nuzzled his face. _"A great, big ruin. Abandoned for centuries I would think."_

"Let's play here!" He beamed up at her. "Can we? I can hide and you'll find me! Can we, Seras, please?"

She looked out across the crumbling walls and the dormant fountain, at the creeping ivy and moss and the garden Old Man Belmont had been so proud of now grown wild in its neglect. Seras lowered her head. _"No, little one. We should go."_

"Why?"

_"__Because…"_ The vampiress trailed off as she stalked away, Adrian chasing after her and catching up her hand as she let her wolf form give way to her human one. "Because that's where…the Sleeping Soldier lies."

"Who's the Sleeping Soldier?"

"Oh, you know." She waved her free hand carelessly. "Some mighty warrior that always appears in stories to slay a dragon and save a princess or something like that with a happy ending for all. There's a clever scholar, too, that helps him along the way. And a hunter, I think. So say the Speaker tribes."

Adrian tugged at her hand. "Come on, Seras, quit teasing. Tell me the whole story."

The vampire lady tossed her head back as she laughed. "Gracious, no, pet! Daylight is no time for stories. Stories are for when the sun goes down and we have only fires to keep us warm." Kneeling, she added. "If you behave, I shall tell you the tale tonight. That means no whining, no wheedling, and certainly no tears when I say it's time to go home."

The boy pursed his lips in a stubborn pout, but he nodded. "Yes, Sister."

Seras smiled and brushed her hand against his dirt-smudged cheek. "Now then. Shall we go down to the river and look for meadowsweet?"

Adrian nodded. "Irises too. And sheep laurels."

"Of course," she said as her brother pulled away and he again became a wolf cub, bounding into the undergrowth. As she rose to her feet, a flicker of movement caught her eye, and she turned, startled, in the direction of the Belmont Estate. Her red eyes flicked up to the towers, across the forecourt, through the empty windows. What had she seen? Had it been just a bird?

"Seras!" Adrian called.

She took a step back, hesitated, then raised her hand as though in farewell before she too disappeared back into the forest.

And wind shook the ivy.

_The End_


End file.
